


Crossed Paths

by angelpops_1818



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelpops_1818/pseuds/angelpops_1818
Summary: Elena's father is a Formula One Legend. As soon as she can she follows his footsteps into the paddock as a race engineer. She finds her path keeps crossing with one Sebastian Vettel, most often not particularly pleasantly. Still, she is unwittingly intrigued by him, and thinks he might feel the same.This story starts properly around 2013, and then carries on from there.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Original Female Character(s), Mark Webber/Original Female Character(s), Sebastian Vettel/Original Female Character
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've invented Elena's father, and as this work is as rooted in reality as possible, his victories will naturally be someone else's. This isn't to take that away from anyone, it's just easier for me to write if I can take liberties.

Prologue 

“You’d take his side, _naturlich_ _..._ in fact, why are you even in this debate in the first place?” 

“I don’t know... because you put my driver at risk with your selfish, careless, greedy, desperate, childish, petty, ridiculous... should I go on? Idiotic, misguided, foolish, erratic, dangerous actions!” 

“ _Your driver?_ You’re the race engineer, not the team principal. Keep your nose out.” 

“Keep my nose out? Very mature. I have to work with _my_ driver, I have to advise _my driver_ , I care about _my driver,_ the success and safety of _my driver_ depends on me. Remind me again, please, why it’s none of my business?” 

“You’re not a driver. Hell, you’re not even a proper race engineer! You don’t know what it’s like when you’re out there, stop pretending like you do. You know what? I was shocked when they hired you, you’re too young and immature to understand” 

“I’m the same age as you! I don’t need to be out there to know that that was a fucked-up decision. Face the consequences like a man or go home.” 

_“Ach!_ _Geh_ _zurück_ _zu_ _deinen_ _Daten_ _, Kleiner.”_

_“_ I will go back to my data, thank you. Maybe you should look at what yours tell you about you... What? Didn’t know I spoke German? And don’t call me little.” 


	2. Go For It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the slightly shorter chapters here at the beginning- I'm just trying to give some background! They will get longer and beefier, I swear! Enjoy :)

_2008_

"Elena, you should take it! It will invaluable, it could lead to something permanent..." Dad nudged my arm encouragingly. 

"It feels wrong. Like I don't deserve it." I shifted the piece of paper between my finger; it had a huge Red Bull in the corner of the page.

"Pah. Elena, you know this business, it's more about who you know. Besides, I don't even work for Red Bull, so you can't say it nepotism."

"I wanted to feel like I earned it."

" _Lensha,_ I love you, but grow up. It's an oppurtunity you'd be a fool to miss... but if it makes you feel better, they've seen your grades, experience, qualifications, they wouldn't have asked you on board if they thought you were shit." 

That earned him a slap on the arm, but it brought a smile to my lips. 

"It's a paid internship... who cares if you've got an advantage- that's the only real way to get a leg up." He poured himself a coffee, took a sip. "Take it." He said. "Take it." 

* * *

“Elena. How are you holding up?”

I was startled out of my position squinting at the front wing of the car as thought I really knew what I was doing by Christian, my boss, who was wielding a coffee cup.

“Good, yeah. Just, you know. Looking.” “Good. Hey, why don’t you come and have a look at Mark’s data for this practice? See what you make of it.”

“You sure?” I hesitated, trying to gauge his thinking.

“Yep. Come on.” I followed him out of the garage to where Mark and his engineer, Robbie, and a few others were hovering over a low table, poring over a screen.

“Elena, come and have a look. Let’s see if you’re on the same page as us.” Robbie moved away from Mark slightly, allowing me to slot, slightly squished, between them. I scanned the computer and print outs in front of me, graphs overlapping, peaking and troughing, differentiated by colour. I brought my hand to my chin subconsciously, biting the tip of a finger.

“We’re losing speed on those corners... can we pull any more out of it?” Mark nodded.

“We can.” “We could eke out another couple of tenths by just being slightly less cautious. The straights are pretty much pushed as hard as they can be. Let’s just err less on the side of caution and break a little later. We could easily move up to third or fourth just on those last few corners.”

“Exactly what we said,” Robbie smiled.

“That wasn’t a test, right? You know that was an obvious solution.” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Course not.” He dropped a hand onto my shoulder. "It wasn’t about the solution; it was about whether you could identify the problem- which you did.”

I nodded, cautiously.

Christian turned to me, hands in pockets. “Sit with Robbie today, observe him, listen to him, maybe tell him if he starts to make stupid decisions.”

I felt my heartbeat start to quicken a little. “I don’t think I’m ready for-”

“Relax!” Robbie interrupted, smiling like a buffoon. “We’re not going to let you make any real decisions.”

“How charming. Reassuring, but charming. Fine, I’ll sit with you, but if you suddenly decide you need the bathroom, you’re taking me with you.”

“Aye up, bit early in the morning for that kind of chat.” I kicked him under the table. “Don’t.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll see you later. Qualifying head on.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” I gave him a sardonic salute and turned on my heel.

* * *

My stomach was rolling, palms a little sweaty. I knew it didn’t mean anything, but the chance to at least offer a semblance of an opinion was enough to make me feel sick. I was that preoccupied that I didn’t notice the errant racing driver wandering around the garage.

“Can I help you?” I asked, eyeing the gold and black of his race suit.

“Christian wanted to speak to me... is he around?”

“He’s finishing up with Mark... want to me to grab him?"

“ _Nein, alles gut_.” He held out his hand for me to take.

“I’m Sebastian.”

“Elena.” “I know who you are.” He smiled tentatively. “Your dad’s a bit of a legend, no?”

“I guess.”

“I guess?” He scoffed. "I wonder how many people are racing today because they were inspired by him. I know I was.”

“I’m sure he’d like to hear that.” I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I knew who he was, of course I did; I knew everyone on the grid by name, but I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Toro Rosso driver, youngest pole-sitter... I got it.

"So, what do you do around him?" The way he phrased the question made me stiffen. 

"I'm here for an internship. I'm studying engineering." 

"Engineer, huh? I thought you'd more likely to be in a cock-pit." 

I cocked my head, trying to determine his motivation; at this point I couldn't tell he if was being friendly or mocking me. 

“Sebastian!” Come through, come through.” Christian’s voice startled me for the second time today, breaking the slightly awkward dip in conversation.

Sebastian didn’t seem like he would bearrogant, but he didn’t say another word to me as he followed Christian out of the garage.

* * *

I was so immersed in the qualifying session that I didn't even notice Robbie nudging me, pointing at the screen in front of us. "What do you think?" He asked. 

I grimmaced. "Hold back now? One last push at the end?" I felt my the pitch of my voice make the statement a question. 

"Mark. Hold back, repeat hold back." 

I nearly fell off my chair. "Robbie!" 

"Relax, Elena. I'd already made that call before I asked. Again, _just checking._ " He raised his palms to me as if I was a crazed animal that needed calming. 

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" He didn't notice though, he'd turned his attention back to the screens in front of us, and I did the same. I watched the data as Mark did a cold lap, eyes on every dip, every peak, every movement. 

"He's in seventh. He needs another hot lap to make sure he's secure..." I mumbled. 

"He'll do it."

"Thirty seconds to get over that line and start the lap..."

"Trust me. He'll do it." 

I watched with baited breath. Seventh would get him through the the third session, but while he was doing his cold lap, the drivers below him were trying to better their times, meaning he could easily be pushed down four places. 

I was sure we wouldn't be through to Q3, but I watched the names appear on the classification: Vettel, Button, Davidson... None of them had improved their lap time. I looked at Robbie, a shadow of a smirk on his lips. 

"How did you _know_ that?"

"Just a feeling. It'll come. That was only Q2. Wait til Q3..." 

"I don't think I can trust my instincts like that. You could have been out..."

"Trust me. It'll come." 


	3. First Impressions

_2009_

"Okay, why don't we run that again? This time let off the brakes a little earlier, see how that feels?" 

"Copy that." 

I cast a downward glance at the sheaths of paper in front of me, tapping my pen against the desk. 

"Elena... do you have a moment?" 

I held showed Christian a finger and an apologetic face. "Mark, I'm going to give you back to Robbie for a sec." I pulled off my headphones and turned to face my boss.

"Sorry about that, I'm all yours." I adjusted my hair so I looked at least moderately presentable and slipped through the door that Christian was holding open for me. 

"Sorry to pull you away - just wanted to introduce you to someone." 

I merely nodded, feeling a tug of irritation that I was pulled away from running scenarios for a meet a greet. 

"You haven't met David's replacement, have you?" 

"Replacement?" I smiled. "You make it sound like he's retired from a job in a supermarket." I shook my head though. "Not really." 

"Let me introduce you then." 

I slipped into the garage behind him, the clattering and chatting of the mechanics working filling my ears. 

"Elena Metveyva...Sebastian Vettel."

I nodded politely, and he held out his hand for me to shake. "We've done this before." He smiled, referring to the brief exchange in Japan a year earlier. 

"Thought you said you hadn't met."

"Does bumping into each other in the garage count as meeting?" I cocked an eyebrow.

Christian shrugged. "Anyway, thought you better be formally introduced, you know, before you start trying to tactically undermine his position on track and everything." 

I blushed, but Sebastian just smiled. He was handsome, in a toothy sort of way. His floppy blonde hair fell over his forehead and his grin seemed to light up his whole face. He looked different, older than when I'd first bumped into his, but his boyish looks remained the same. 

"I'll try not to do that too much..." I offered.

"I won't worry too much then." His gaze was locked on to me, but it didn't reach my eyes. It wasn't hostile, more contemplative, but it made my skin prickle. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about him- I had that same feeling that he was mocking me that I'd had in Japan. 

I gave him a sweet smile. "We'll see. If you don't mind, Christian, I'll head back?"

He nodded, and I turned on my heel without another look at Sebastian. I got a strange sort of feeling from him, as though there was something under the surface, some sort of veiled contemptment. Everything he said to me had an air of mockery, a sort of distrust. I shook my head. However he felt about me wasn't really my concern; it wasn't him I'd be working with anyway. 

* * *

"Okay, Sebastian's catching up with you but you're still two tenths ahead, break later into this next corner and see if you can pull away on the straight." I guided Mark through the radio, Robbie next to me offering me a thumbs up in approval. 

"Got it." 

I watched the data move in front of me, hoping that Mark braking late would force Sebastian into braking earlier and give him chance to break free. It wasn't competitive, just testing, but it gave us a chance to see how they drove with each other, how they could respond to one another and react, which would make it a lot easier for us when making team decisions. Mark was heading down a short straight toward the second to last corner, and Sebastian was gaining on him slightly. I watched him pass the point at which he would naturally brake, and then, eyes wide, watched Sebastian slam into the back of him and send him spinning into the gravel.

"What the fuck?" I heard Robbie spit. I held up a hand to quiet him. 

"Mark? You good?"

"Fine. What in the shit was that about?" 

"Guess he didn't get the bloody memo." Robbie replied. 

Once my nerves had calmed, anger took their place. First day of practice with us and that's what he chooses to do? Slam into the back of his team mate? What a great way to get the ball rolling. When they pulled into the garage I was seething, but I let Robbie take control of the situation. He was always calm and collected, whereas I was a hot-head. I get it, these things happen, it only takes a second to misjudge a situation. It's when people let their competitiveness overrule that I got riled. Still, Robbie was complete civilised and almost understanding. I wasn't sure how he did it. 

"I just thought if I could outbrake him, I'd be able to get round. Simple as." Sebastian's voice was nonchalant. I rolled my eyes. 

"I could see that, mate. It's only testing though, you knew what we were going to do." Mark managed to sound almost pleasant. 

"I'm just trying to push as hard as I can? No harm in that, surely?"

I couldn't help myself, I simply gestured to Mark's rear wing. 

"Look, I'm sorry for the trouble. Honestly, I was just pushing myself. No hard feelings, ja?" 

There was a general murmur of agreement. Sebastian took a sip from his waterbottle and pushed past me to the motorhome. "Better luck next time, _Prinzessin."_


	4. A Surprising Proposition

"You should totally wear this one!" Lizzie, Mark's press officer held up a low cut, navy dress, a slit coming almost to the thigh. 

"Don't you think it's a bit much?" I stepped back from the number, eyeing it over. 

"It's Monaco! It's a huge party...on a yacht... all of Red Bull and god know's who else is going to be there... you _need_ to wear this."

"I don't know- it's very..."

She held up a hand to cut me off. "Remember when you treated yourself to those Louboutins? Now is the time, woman, Wear this dress! Or at least try it on." She whined. 

"Fine." I snatched the dress from its hanger. The silk was smooth and cool, and it felt heavy in my arms, despite the missing material. I moved to the floor length mirror in the corner of the room and slipped it over my head. It was floor lenghth, the gap in the fabric just grazing the bottom of my thigh. It clung to every curve, it's spaghetti straps dropping into a deep V that was so snug I wondered if I'd even need a bra. I huffed. 

"You're right... I need to wear this dress."

Lizzie jumped up off the bed to admire her choice. "Why'd you sound so sad about it?"

"Because now I have to admit that you're right." I bobbed my tongue out, dashing across to the other side of the room before she could hit me. 

"You're so rude." She said, but she couldn't hide her smile. She pulled up her hair up from her shoulders and plopped it on the top of her head. "Hair up... or down?" 

"Down." 

She smiled. "Okay. You: up. Y'know, neat up-do, but with curls falling _just so_ , so it looks like they just fell out but actually you spent ages trying to curl them around your face in a way that looks natural? Up do."

"Very specific," I laughed, waiting for the curling iron to beep at me; "you should be a hairdresser." 

She curtseyed. 

* * *

"Ellie! Car's outside."

I quickly scrambled around on one foot, trying to pull my second heel on, all the while Lizzie stood tapping a heeled foot in the doorway. 

"Grab my clutch," I pleaded, picking up one of the lipsticks I'd left sprawled all over the bed. Lizzie abided, but gave me a look as if to say _get your silky ass to the car before I beat you with that clutch._

I held my hands up in defeat, breathless, and told her I was ready to go. It wasn't until I got to the lift that I even fully looked at myself. Damn, Lizzie was good. The dress was perfect, clinging to my skin, falling just so around my legs that it almost whispered when I walked. She'd pulled my hair into a low bun, braided at the sides, and pulled a few curls out at the front _exactly_ how she said she would. I didn't think I was unnatractive on a normal basis, but I did spend most of my time in a Red Bull polo and wind-breaker. I'd actually surprised myself tonight. Lizzie on the other hand, always seemed to look like a bombshell. She'd slicked her straightened hair back and poured herself into a little black dress. How dare she. 

By the time the car had reached the Marina, the sun was dipped low in the sky, hovering just above the sea, dyeing the water an irridescent indigo. The evening air was warm on my skin, but the gentle breeze brought goosebumps to the surface. Lizzie linked her arms with mine. "Not that _anybody_ thinks you're not drop-dead gorgeous at the best of times- it must be that pesky Russian gene - but you're probably going to give some of the older guests heart attacks tonight." 

I shoved her and she cackled. "I'm just saying...Mark's going to get a _bit_ of a shock tonight..."

"Lizzie, I'm basically a child to Mark, stop making it weird!

"Again, just saying," she whispered.

We flashed our invites to the extremely well dressed security guard and squeezed through the hustle and bustle to get to the bar. It was an elegent affair, but as always, the bar was heaving with people. 

Lizzie pointed to an table outside on the deck, and I could see the backs of some very expensive looking tuxes, but couldn't make out who was wearing them. I nodded at her and headed over, hoping somebody I knew was hiding in there somewhere. 

"Elena!" _Thank god,_ I thought, _a voice I recognised._ Mark stood up from his seat at the table and beckoned me over. "You look amazing." He pecked my cheek. "Have my seat, I'll wrangle another from somewhere." 

"Well Hell-O, Elena Metveyva!" Robbie was next to kiss my cheek. "You look ravishing, as always." I rolled my eyes at him, but took my seat next to his. 

Aside from Mark and Robbie, I didn't really recognise anyone else at the table, so I was grateful when Lizzie returned with two champagne flutes.

"Möet for me, Möet for you, don't drink it all it one go!" I thanked her and took a sip, the bubbles tickling my throat. 

Lizzie nudged me. "Have you seen Sebastian?" 

I cocked an eyebrow. "Why would I have seen Sebastian?" 

"Wondering..."

"I don't particularly _want_ to see Sebastian." 

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"Lizzie, I don't know if you've noticed, but we _famously_ do not get along."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because he's an _ass?"_

"Wrong. Sexual tension." She said simply, taking a swig from her glass.

I almost spat out my own drink. "There are so many things wrong with that, I don't know where to start."

"Start with, _Lizzie, you're so right, I act like I hate him, but really I want to jump his bones!"_

"Whose bones?" Mark's voice made me splutter my champagne for a second time.

"No-one's! No-one's!" I managed to hiss. I kicked Lizzie under the table. " _Shut. Up."_

 _"_ You love me."

"You're damn lucky." 

Sure, Sebastian was handsome, and I could see the allure. But _god_ did he irritate me. Everytime I saw him, I could only think of the times when he'd pissed me off. Acting irresponsibly, ignoring team orders, deliberately fucking Mark up on too many occasions to count, his patronising tone, not to mention that fact that every time he sees me, he called me _Princess._ I shuddered. Condescending ass. Still, I found myself shocked as he emerged from the bar, a little scruff round his chin that he hadn't bothered to shave, his tux fitted, and watched him disappear into the crowd without pulling my eyes away. 

* * *

"Enjoying the party, _Prinzessin? "_

I was leaning over the railing of the yacht, watching the high strung fairy lights twinkling in the inky blue water below me, when Sebastian Vettel had the nerve to interrupt me.

"I _was_." I smiled sweetly, not missing the way his eyes raked my body. I turned back to the water. 

"You look good." 

I winced at his comment. How dare he. _Three years_ he'd spent being nothing but sarcastic and condescending, and now he's trying to complement me? 

"What do you want?" I spat.

"I'm doing the rounds,making small talk, listening to everyone tell me how I'm going to win my fourth World Championship this year, _und so weiter, und so weiter.."_

I looked around his, there was certainly nobody here that would tell him what he wanted to hear, it was just me. He'd come out of his way to find me. 

"You're obnoxious, you know that?"

" _Prinzessin,_ I think you and Mark are the only people here who think that. I'm a charmer, _nein?"_

I wanted to punch him, or push him over the edge, but I wasn't sure Christian would appreciate me tossing his star driver overboard. I held my tongue.

"You could have been on my team, you know. You'd only have had to ask."

"Why would I want that?"

"Who wouldn't want to be on the winning side?"

"I'm doing just fine, thank you. Besides, what is it you say about me? Too young? Too inexperienced? Only got this position because of my dad? You wouldn't want me on your side anyway." 

He moved closer to me, his arm grazed mine. My breath hitched. "You'd be surprised. We all know I'm going to win this year. I bet you couldn't even get Mark to second." 

"Oh, really?" 

He inched closer to me, enough that I could smell his cologne. "Really." He put his face close to mine and whispered: "Webber's final season, get him to second, I'll stop calling you princess. Anything less, you come and work with me." His voice was low, his breath tickling my ear, I felt my skin prickle into goosebumps and my heart beat quicken. 

"Doesn't seem like a very fair deal." I whispered back, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. 

"I like to call you that. I like the way it _winds you up."_ He must have felt me tense, because he slid a finger up my exposed arm. "Do we have a deal?"

I had absolutely zero idea what was going on. I knew he was trying to bait me, to rile me up, but even so- how could I resist a chance to prove him wrong? I leant into him to whisper in his ear. "Deal." I didn't give him chance to respond, I turned on my heel, grabbed another glass of champagne from the waiter in the doorway and slipped back inside. All the while I could feel his eyes boring into my back. 

* * *

I squeezed my way back through the crowds until I found Lizzie, arm draped around Robbie's shoulder, a glass of red wine in hand. I grabbed her wrist. "Lizzie, we need to talk."

Her eyes went wide and she pressed her lips together to surpress her glee. "This sounds exciting, excuse me boys." She unhooked herself from Robbie and set down her glass, following me to a quieter spot over by the entrance. 

"I just saw Sebastian..."

Her lips started to pull into a smile. "Aaaand."

I bit my lip. "I don't know." It wasn't a lie, I was completely dumbfounded by our interaction. "He was all... close. He told me I looked good.."

"Not a lie." She tipped her head at me.

"And then he started... He said I could have moved to his team if I'd wanted."

"Oh my god."

"Then he bet me that I couldn't get Mark up to second by the end of the season."

"He bet you?"

"Mm-hm."

"What were the odds?"

"Prepare yourself."

She gripped the railings. "Prepared."

"If I win, he stops calling me princess. if I don't... I work with him..."

Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Instead, she gaped like a fish, eyes looking as if they were going to bulge out of her head. "You. Are. Joking." She eventually stammered, grabbing my arm with a little too much force.

"I'm not. And he like,,, caressed my arm. It was all weirdly sexual." 

"What did I say to you?! Sex-u-al ten-sion!" She punctuated the final words with an indelicate slap on my folded arms. "He likes you!"

"No, he doesn't _like_ me."

"Okay, so he _wants_ you then... that can be even better!"

"No, no." I held up a finger. "This is and can never be a good thing. It's just messy. I can't believe I even agreed."

"You agreed?!" She put the back of her hand to her forehead, feigning a swoon. 

I bit my lip. "Maybe."

"Ohhh my god. I told you! I told you!" 

"Sshhh. This stays between us, okay?"

She pretended to zip her lips closed and then held three fingers up. "Scout's honour." 

"Let's go and enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

"Oh I think you could really enjoy yourself tonight if you let yourself." 

I ignored her. Mainly because I thought she might be right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the start of this story- please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always a huge joy (and motivator)!


	5. Under the Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, complete disregard for history and facts; It wouldn't be fanfic if I didn't make up race results :P

I spent the days leading up to the next race weekend with the night of the party still playing on a loop in my mind. I knew Sebastian was trying to get under my skin; he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I could be good at my job, that maybe I’d earned my position on merit- I got that. Didn’t agree with it, it made me want to punch him square in the jaw, but I got it. What I didn’t understand was the way he’d inched so close, the touch of his hand on my arm, the darkness that flashed in his eyes when he looked at me. That I _really_ didn’t understand. I didn’t want to so much as entertain Lizzie’s suggestion, but I couldn’t help but relive the way he’d touched me, the way his eyes had lingered on my body as he spoke. _Snap out of, Elena, I scolded myself._

The next race weekend was one of my favourites, and as we touched down in Canada, I felt the familiar bubbles of excitement and nerves in my stomach. By the time I reached the hotel, I’d pretty much forgotten about the little bet I’d got going on. Lizzie had arranged a dinner for us on the first night, and by the time she knocked on the door of my suite, I was famished. 

“You ready?” She was wearing a polka-dot blouse tucked into a leather pencil skirt. I raised my eyebrows. 

“You know this is a low-key affair, don’t you?” 

She tutted. “This is a low-key outfit.” 

I scrunched my face up at her. “I don’t think so. Now I'm going to look like a slob.” 

“As if that was possible. Those jeans make your ass look incredible and I love that blazer- don't even think about getting changed. Let’s go.” 

I admired Lizzie- she loved to be underestimated. She enjoyed nothing more than shutting down anybody who dared to think she was nothing more than a pretty face. That, and she was my biggest cheerleader. I linked my arm with hers and we padded down the corridor, heels clicking on the marble floor. 

I pushed the elevator button and it blinked to life, humming in response. When the doors finally slid open, I felt my stomach drop to my feet, and then carry on falling down the ten floors to the lobby. Lizzie almost yelped in joy. I nudged her as subtly as I could. 

“ _Guten abend,_ ladies.” Sebastian stood before us, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans. I almost forgot how to walk. Still, I eventually managed to put one foot in front of the other and sidle in next to him. The elevator wasn’t small, but I felt like it was tightening around me every second, and I felt uncomfortably close to the man beside me. I was close enough that the smell of his cologne was suffocating. I hadn't seen or spoke to him since Monaco, and the fact that Lizzie knew exactly what had happened between us gave the whole situation an atmosphere you could cut with a knife. 

“Hello, Sebastian. Where are you off to?” Lizzie’s voice was sickly sweet, but I was glad she’d opened her mouth because it seemed mine was full of cotton wool. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, and the awkwardness was almost unbearable. I could sense Lizzie wanted to burst out laughing, and I sent a silent prayer that she didn't. 

“Dinner. Didn’t you get the invite?” He said. “You ladies look good.” He referred to us both, but his eyes were locked on mine. I looked away, heat rising in my cheeks. 

“How... serendipitous.” I could feel the pure glee radiating from Lizzie. I wanted to flick her. The door pinged open and revealed the expanse of the foyer. I exhaled. “Guess we’ll see you there!” 

His hand brushed mine as he stepped past me, and I instinctively balled my own into a fist. He didn’t say another word, just gave a small wave as he closed the gap between the lobby and the front door. I turned to Lizzie and smirked. 

“Have you ever been so uncomfortable in your entire life?” 

She giggled, sliding her hand into mine and swinging our arms. “Nope. And I sincerely hope that the rest of the night is _exactly_ the same.” 

“You haven’t arranged a seating plan, have you?” I eyed her suspiciously. 

“No, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re sitting next to one another.” 

Of course she would. 

* * * 

The restaurant Lizzie had chosen was gorgeous: all low-beamed ceilings illuminated with hurricane lanterns and fairy lights. A white barked tree stood in the corner of the room, its branches and leaves trailing against the wall, themselves punctuated with warm glowing lights. She led us to the table nearest the tree, a large, circular table lit up with pillar candles, we were the last ones to arrive, and the table was already chattering away. I don’t know how fate was so firmly on Lizzie’s side, but the only two seats were between Mark and Sebastian; she quickly slid into the one next to Mark. _Of course._

To my surprise, Sebastian stood up to pull out my chair, and as I squeezed in next to him, I was hyper aware of our proximity. 

Lizzie poured us both a glass of wine, and I picked up the menu, pretending I was sitting by anyone else. 

Robbie’s voice came from opposite me, directed at Sebastian and his race engineer, Miles. “How are you set for this weekend then? Confident?” 

Sebastian poked an olive with a cocktail stick and popped it into his mouth. “Quietly confident, I’d say.” There was a murmur of laughter. He turned his attention to me. “What about you, Elena? What are you plans?” It was phrased casually enough, but I knew what he was getting at. He knew for the next half of the season we would have to be consistent, otherwise he'd be welcoming me to his team.

It irritated me. As if I wanted to get the best result possible for _him?_ As if I only cared about winning because of something he said to me. I shrugged nonchalantly. “We know what we’re doing.” 

He smirked. “Of course you do.” 

I took a sip of my wine, trying not to notice the way his knee was pressed against mine. Maybe the table was smaller than I thought. 

I felt like I’d spent most of the night trying to ignore Sebastian’s offhand remarks, the sly comments, the way he tried to subtly undermine everything I said. I tensed my jaw, tensing and untensing my fingers under the table as he driveled on about the garage being a boys’ club, and wondering how I coped. When I’d finally had enough, I pushed myself out from under the table and excused myself. 

I knew I shouldn’t let it get to me- he didn’t like me; he was trying to get me to bite. Still, I couldn’t help the way it made me grind my teeth. 

I finished checking my makeup in the mirror and pushed the bathroom door open with my elbow. I stumbled into the firm body of somebody waiting outside the door. 

“Careful, _prinzessin_. Don’t want to hurt yourself.” 

I couldn’t help myself; I jabbed a finger into his chest, and he backed against the wall. The bathrooms were around the corner, thankfully we were shielded from view. “What in the _hell are_ you playing at out there? What is your problem with me?” 

He shrugged. “Are people not allowed to dislike other people?” 

“Oh, no, they’re allowed. I _strongly dislike_ you at this moment in time. What I’m asking, is why you feel the need to goad me in front of everyone?” 

He took a step towards me, looking down on me with dark eyes. “It’s fun.” He put his face level with mine, turned his head so he could whisper in my ear, his cheek millimeters from mine. My breath caught in my throat. “Who am I to deny myself some fun?” 

I took a step back, giving myself some distance and some breathing room. The scent of him was heady, the way his eyes had flashed had flushed my cheeks. I brought a hand to my forehead. I hated the way he made me feel. He was attractive, I’d be blind to admit otherwise; his closeness stirred something in me, I knew that much. But God, he was a complete asshole. He was manipulative, insensitive, and tonight? Just plain cruel. I sensed he was going to say something else but I held up a finger to silence him. 

“Don’t even bother. We're done here.” 

* * *

I woke early on Saturday, the early morning sun streaming in through a gap in the curtains, spilling light over the bed. I grumbled and slipped out of from under the sheets. I padded to the coffee machine in my slippers, pulling out a folder of data from my bag on the way and dumping it on the table. I clicked the coffee machine to life and stood against the counter, arms folded, silently willing it to hurry up. I found I still had a knot of tension in my stomach, an irritability I couldn't shake. It didn't take it genius to work out it was still lingering from the meal out from hell the other day. I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned, the memory of it all coming flooding back. _How dare he make me feel like this_ I thought. I'd have to put him straight the only way I knew how, on the track. For a split second I wished it could be me in the cock-pit, to have that ultimate control, _oh I'd show him._ We were faster than him practice yesterday, but he was running a different set-up. I picked up my coffee cup and dropped down on the small table by the window to pore over the data from yesterday. I wanted to get Mark in front of him in qualifying, to give him the best shot we could, but I wasn't sure it would happen today. Even so, if we started behind him we could still get round with a well-timed overtake; I'd have to trust Mark with that one. Sipping my coffee, I leafed through the print-outs, occasionally stopping to jot down a note here and there. As I skimmed the graphs, I felt a new determination take over me, fueled by anger and pride and the fact that I was _damn confident_ in my own ability. I could do this, I knew what I was doing, and I knew that because I'd be doing it well before Sebastian came along. 

I was one of the first to arrive on track that morning, and as I slipped out of the car I there was a cool breeze that had me pull my coat tightly around me. I waved the driver off and headed for security, pass gripped tightly in my hand. 

"Lena! Wait up," 

I wheeled round to see Robbie running to close the distance, jacket blowing in the breeze. He slung an arm around my shoulder; I tried to wriggle free but he had locked on tight. "You trying to suffocate me, Bennett?" I laughed. 

"Would I do that?" He mussed my hair and released me, almost sending me careering into a bush. 

"Probably. How are you?" I flashed my pass and slipped in through the barrier, Robbie close behind. He caught up and matched his stride with mine, a bounce in his step. 

"Oh, I'm fine... How are _you?"_ He jabbed a finger in my general direction, eyes shining with glee. 

"Fine...Why? What's going on?" 

"Oh nothing, nothing... Just wondering what on earth went down between you and Vettel the other night?" I usually found his Scottish twang endearing, but now it suddenly made his accusation even more annoying. 

I tossed my hair. "Nothing at all. Why would you ask?" 

"You must have left your poker face in the restaurant, mate. Not fooling anyone. For one, he could barely keep his eyes off you the whole night, and then he followed you to the bloody bathroom?!" 

My hand came up to rub my forehead in exasperation. "Two people can need to use the bathroom at the same time, Robbie! Besides, you know we don't get along. Why would he _deliberately_ follow me to the bathroom?" The last sentence was moot, I knew exactly why he wanted to follow me to the bathroom, but I wasn't about to tell Robbie anything about that night, or Monaco for that matter. 

"Love and lust are completely separate entities my dear girl. Don't need to like someone to-" 

I dug my elbow deep into his side and he winced, hopping away from me to rub his side. "You are evil!" 

I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. "I know...Anyway, I'm here to work, not play. You know me." 

"Yeah, you do have a lot to prove, to be fair." 

I opened my mouth, feigning disbelief. "How very dare you." Apparently I was now terrifying, as he side-stepped away from me as though he feared for his life. "Relax," I smiled. "I won't hurt you." 

He didn't look convinced, but relented, and rejoined my side. "Let's go kick some ass in Quali then." 

Now that I could do. 

We babbled about nothing for the rest of the way to the paddock, and by the time we reached our destination we were laughing like idiots about something Robbie's brother had done on a trip to Amsterdam. 

"Coffee?" I managed to offer through my giggles. 

"Please. I don't know how I'll get through the day!" 

A few minutes later, I was bumbling back to Robbie, balancing two cappuccinos and a couple of caramel wafers. He rubbed his hands together hungrily. 

"Didn't get one for me? I thought I could rely on you, El." An Australian drawl came from behind me, and I almost dropped everything turning straight into Mark. 

I grimaced. "Sorry. You ready for briefing?" He nodded and led the way out of hospitality and towards the briefing room. I followed close behind, determination steeling my gaze. 

* * *

Sunday seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye, and I was more than ready for it. Mark had put it on the front row alongside Sebastian on pole, and I was feeling quietly confident. I knew that there was a chance to get around him on the offset if we could get a good start. They were teammates, but your team mate is your biggest rival in this sport, and I knew they both wanted to push each other. I strolled into the garage in late morning, sun shining, feeling pretty damn positive. No sooner had I dumped my bags, my eyes were drawn to a navy polo shirt, its wearer standing in the sunshine of the pitlane. Sebastian was stood outside his side of the garage, talking to a couple of engineers I couldn't see. His blond hair seemed to glow in the sunshine, and his hand had come up to his chin to rub his stubble. For some reason, I found my feet started moving without the permission of my brain, and before I knew it I was at his side. 

"Morning, Sebastian." _What am I doing?_

" _Prinzessin... guten Morgen."_ He didn't smile, but his eyes crinkled a little as he looked at me. 

I don't know what had possessed me to go over there, it seemed like my brain was subconsciously telling me to play nice. I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun. 

"I bet you're feeling a little confident this morning?" His voice was neutral, erring on patronising, but unusually placid. 

I shrugged non-committally. He smiled. 

"Don't play coy, _prinzessin,_ you think you might beat me today? Got some little trick up your sleeve?" Ah. There it was. 

I pursed my lips, but stepped closer to him. His eyes were glistening but his mouth was set in a firm line. "I _always_ have a trick up my sleeve, Sebastian. Isn't that my job?" 

A smirk played on his lips. "I suppose. Still, not enough tricks to beat me though." 

"Why are you competing with _me?_ It's not me that can take the championship; it's not me that you're racing against..." 

He cocked his head, as if he was surprised that he even had to say what he was going to say. "But it is, in a way. That's what you're there for, to help your driver win the race. Strategy can make or break a race." 

I took another step toward him, this time enough so that I was standing directly in front of him. I brought a hand up to his cheek, running a thumb across his cheekbone, then I squeezed as if he was a toddler. "Aw. It's so sweet that you're so concerned about my performance." 

I expected him to recoil from my touch immediately, but he didn't. Instead he put his hand on top of mine, his touch lingering a moment, and lifted my hand from his face, letting it drop down back at my side. 

"I'm concerned with proving myself right. You shouldn't be here." 

"Maybe you should tell my daddy that." I pouted. "See how that fares for your future. We'll see..." I didn't mean it- I'd never use my dad for leverage, but at that moment I wanted to bite. "You think if I was bad at my job I'd still be here? You know what this team is like," 

"We'll see, won't we, _Prinzessin._ We'll see." 

I looked him square in the face, his eyes locked on my own. I didn't say anything, just turned on my heel and back to the garage. 

_So much for playing nice,_ i thought to myself. Still, I tried. Sort of. As usual I couldn't resist taking the bait. 

* * * 

Sebastian had a good start, but Mark's was better, and he managed to get around him on the first corner. I cheered internally, but we couldn't get ahead of ourselves. Mark was leading comfortably, today he was just _faster,_ there was no doubt about that. The gap behind was increasing incrementally each lap. Still, I wondered who'd get priority given the standings in the championship. We were approaching the pit-window, and I chewed my lip. We needed to get in first, to block any potential undercut that I was pretty sure would be coming. We needed to wait for the right time to ensure that when Sebastian eventually pitted, he didn't come out in front of us anyway. 

"Box this lap." 

"We clear?" 

I didn't respond, as Sebastian was approaching the pits himself, and I held my breath until he passed. "Yep." I eventually replied. 

"Box, box box." I pressed the microphone close to my mouth. I drummed my fingers on the desk, watching Mark pull into the pit lane. I hated pit stops. Races could be won and lost in pit stops. 

Thankfully, we had a near perfect stop, and Mark cruised down the pit lane exit and rejoined the track just behind Sebastian. I exhaled through pursed lips. _Thank god,_ at least that we wouldn't have to worry for that for a little while. We were aiming for a two-stop race, which meant we still had the threat of being undercut, but for now we had to focus in closing that gap for when Sebastian pitted. When he finally did, Mark had built up enough gap that Sebastian slotted in comfortably behind him. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was premature. Sebastian, on fresher tires was gaining on Mark, who was struggling to increase the distance. Sebastian was on Mark's tail for a few laps, and on every wide corner I held my breath. Mark was doing enough to keep him behind, but on the second to last corner, Sebastian went for the overtake. Mark was waiting for it though, and managed to defend. My hands were balled into fists, and my stomach was doing somersaults. I found it _never_ got easier to watch. As they approached the final corner, Sebastian was almost side to side with Mark, and as they approached the apex, Mark was forced to go slightly wide. Sebastian hadn't left enough gap though, and his front wing clipped Mark's rear tyre and sent him spinning into the wall. I yelled out, and heard the rest of Mark's garage do exactly the same. 

"Mark, are you alright?" I pressed the headphones into my ear, breath baited. 

"What the _fuck._ I'm fine, I'm fine." 

_Yes, but when Sebastian gets_ _here,_ _he won't be, I_ thought to myself, grimly. 

* * * 

I didn't approach Sebastian after the race, I didn't want to deal with him. I'd let Mark and Christian have their words. At the briefing, I didn't speak unless I was spoken to, and definitely not to Sebastian. The atmosphere was hostile, but it seemed like everyone was trying to pander to one another so as not to make things even worse than they already were. Mark was livid, as he should be, and I was quietly seething, barely managing to keep my tone civil. 

Mark put his hand on my shoulder as he followed me out of the briefing room. "We've got to let it go, right? No good dwelling on it now." 

I spun around to face him once we were clear of the doorway. "He's an asshole." I said thickly. "How are you so calm?" 

He rubbed the scruff of his chin. "I'm not. I'm livid. He acted like a prick today, and it's not the first time. But what am I gonna do? Fight him?" 

I allowed myself a chuckle as I pictured their scrap. "I guess not. God, there was _so_ much I could have said... didn't want to be fired though so, what can you do?" 

He kissed the top of my head. "I know. That's why I'm glad you're on my team. I know you're always fighting in my corner...And I will say, I thought you were remarkably polite, minus the scoffing and the eyerolls..." 

I covered my face with my hands and shook my head. "I thought I was doing those _internally._ " 

"Nope...still, well done for not vaulting across the table and smashing his head against it. Good show, El. Get yourself back to the hotel, get some rest. We'll get breakfast tomorrow?" 

I nodded, waving as he pulled on his jacket and strode out of my sight. I slunk back to the garage to get my stuff, running through all the things I'd have loved to say out loud in my head. _Yep,_ I thought. _I definitely would have been fired._

Thankfully the garage was empty, and I hauled my stuff to the awaiting car and sulked all the way back to my room. Lizzie had sent me a couple of messages asking if I wanted to get a drink, but I politely declined. 

When I got back to my suite, the sun was low in the sky, slightly skewed by tall buildings but still casting that warm, inviting glow over everything in the room. I looked at my bed, neatly made, wide enough for three people. The sunset glow had fallen over it and _god_ did it look inviting. I kicked off my shoes and slipped out of my shirt and skirt. Padding over to my case to pull out my pyjamas, the warmth of the evening sun on my skin seemed a balm to the anger and irritation that had followed me all the way home. I located my shorts and a vest, slipped them on a threw myself down onto the soft mattress, not even bothering to get under the sheets. 

I was started awake by a knock on the door. For a moment I’d forgotten where in the world I was, and my heart was thudding heavily in my chest. WhenII remembered, I relaxed. It was dark now, and the single floor lamp by the window was the only thing illuminating the room. The dark wallpaper seemed to absorb all of its cold light, and it was throwing long shadows on the light carpet. As I rolled off the bed, the cold air of my unheated room forced a shiver out of me, and I reached for my thick, woolly cardigan from the back of the armchair. I didn’t rush for the door, half hoping whoever it was would get the hint and disappear, but as I meandered over to the door, they knocked again. I stood on my tiptoes to peer through the peephole, and as I squinted to look through, I stiffened. 

I contemplated leaving the door firmly closed and slinking back to bed, but I found myself clicking the lock to the right and tentatively pulling it open. 

“What are you doing here?” I spat. 

Sebastian was leaning against the door, a bare arm resting against the top of the frame for support. His grey t-shirt was hitched above his hip, revealing bare skin, and he was still wearing jeans. 

“ _Ich bin nur zu besuch.”_ He gave me a noncommittal shrug. 

“Just visiting? At midnight?” 

He cocked his head at me, as if he thought I couldn’t understand him. He made a move to push past me into my room, but I put a hand either side of the doorway to block his access. We were now laughably close, my cardigan had slipped down my arm to reveal my bare shoulder, and his body was inches from my own. 

“Not very friendly...” he pouted, with a conspicuous glance down at the exposed skin of my arms and chest. It made me flinch, and I relinquished my control over the doorway. He saw his opportunity and slipped in past me, throwing himself languidly down on the sofa. 

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” 

“What does it look like?” 

“It looks to me like you’ve barged into my room in the middle of the night, and then had the audacity to throw yourself on my sofa like it’s your own?” 

He just blinked at me. “Did you enjoy today’s race? I was very pleased.” 

I pulled the sleeve of my cardigan back up onto my shoulder, but it slid down again. “You are kidding me? You came here to gloat?” 

He stretched out. “Hmmmm. Wouldn’t it be good to be on the winning side?” 

“You want to know what I think?” 

He sat up. 

“ _Ja...ich mache.”_

I had to take a breath before I spoke. “I think you’re a selfish, inconsiderate _asshole_ with an immense ego that quite frankly astonishes me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a finger. 

“You _really_ should take even a millisecond to consider what you’re going to do before you do it. You keep rattling on about how _good_ you are... can’t you prove it without rear-ending my driver?” 

“I make tactical decisions. What’s the point in doing it if you’re not going to take a chance?” 

“Because you _think_ about it?! Did you know the gap wasn’t big enough?” I put my hands on my hips. 

“No.” 

“Liar.” 

“I didn’t think it was too small. I knew it might be tight. Like I said, chances.” 

“You would have had other opportunities, there were still 16 laps to go. You were right behind.” 

“I chose that one.” 

“Which is exactly why we’re having this discussion now.” 

He stood up now, closing the gap between us in two strides. “Are you telling me you’ve never made a questionable decision?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I have.” 

He leaned into me slightly. “Exactly.” 

“I don’t gloat about it, though. Even if it does work in my favour.” 

“I’d only brag about it to you, you know.” He traced the line of my collarbone with his finger. I shuddered at the unexpected contact. “I like the way you react...” 

I felt my blood boil, but at the same time my stomach tightened as his touch. I breathed heavily. 

“What do you want from me?” My tone was neutral, enquiring. I looked up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes flashed dark. 

“I... I don’t know.” 

That stunned me. His eyes were dark, but there was the shadow of a sneer on his handsome face. His jaw tightened, and I moved to run the back of my fingers against his stubble. I flinched as his body stiffened under my touch. He brought his hand up to move mine away, but he didn’t let go, wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me nearer, chest to chest, his thumb circling the palm of my hand. 

“I want to beat you,” he breathed. 

“Sebastian, _I don’t understand.”_

_“_ When you’re successful it... _irritates_ me. _Kleine prinzessin,_ always gets what she wants, got everyone under her thumb.” 

I yanked my wrist free from his grasp, the contact leaving a lingering burn on my skin. 

“What the hell does that matter to you?” I managed to splutter, my mind still reeling from his touch and our proximity. “We’re two _completely different entities._ I can’t take anything away from you.” 

“It’s not about racing... that’s just a way I can make you mad. It’s just about _you.”_

“You don’t like me?” My hand found the small of his neck, and I pulled myself up, so my lips were at his ear. “ _Welcome to the real world. People don’t like other people.”_ I purred. He blindly grasped the fabric of my shirt, adjusting me so that we were face to face. 

“Then what am I doing here?” he asked thickly, looking at me through heavy lidded eyes. 

“ _I don’t know_.” I mumbled breathlessly, my chest heaving. He tipped my chin up with a gentle finger, and for a heart-stopping moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he bit his own lip, and let his hands drop to his side. I used the snap back to reality to force some distance between us, and I pulled my cardigan around me tightly, feeling all too exposed. 

“I think you should go.” I muttered, my back to him. 

“Elena-” He started but didn’t finish. I stared out of the window blankly, not bothering to turn around. The door clicked shut behind him. 


	6. Telling the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long- if you're still here, hello! 
> 
> When I started back at work I just couldn't keep up, but now I'm on summer break and the season has started up again I'm back in the writing zone!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter, as always, comments are warmly welcome! Let me know what you think :)

Elena. He'd called me by my name. Not _princess_ , not _daddy's girl._ Elena. I barely slept, silently cursing the fact that my skin was yearning for his touch: the way he'd drawn circles on my palm with his thumb, the way he'd desperately grasped at my cardigan, the way his finger on my collarbone had brought up goosebumps. I wasn't an idiot, I knew what both Robbie and Lizzie had said was true, you don't have to like someone to be attracted to them. But it _was_ more effort, more tiring. Why would he bother? 

I managed to fall asleep ten minutes before my alarm, which I think made me angrier than any of this combined. I punched out a text to Lizzie.

_Breakfast?_

No reply, but in ten minutes there was a knock on my door. 

I followed Lizzie down the corridor to the lifts, stifling a yawn every five steps. She stopped before pressing the call button, hand on hip. 

"Okay. What the hell is wrong with you this morning, Elena?" 

"Didn't sleep "

She laughed drily. "You don't say?'

I held a hand up to stop any more incoming sarcasm. "Liz, can it wait until I've got a coffee in me?" 

She pursed her lips but relented, perfectly manicured finger pressing the call button a little too aggressively. I bit back a smile. 

***

I let Lizzie lead me to a table by the window, overlooking the outdoor swimming pool, shimmering in the morning sun. She left me twirling a finger aimlessly around my hair, completely and annoyingly distracted. 

"...Elena?"

I started, but willed myself not to look at the source of the voice. 

"Elena!"

"I have nothing to say to you, Sebastian. Nothing at all " 

"You look tired. Do you want to get coffee with-"

"I don't want anything with you. Not now, not ever. Please... Just-"

"Sebastian!" Lizzie's voice was coated in sugar as she appeared behind Sebastian. "What a nice surprise!" She gave me a look that was so far from furtive I think the International Space Station could have picked it up. 

"I didn't know you were here..." His voice was quiet, almost shy. I tried not to notice. 

"That's okay Sebastian, you were just heading to get some breakfast, right?" I tried to smile, but it didn't reach my eyes. 

Lizzie looked between us, looking as if she wanted to explode. 

"Um, ja... Bis später, Elena, Lizzie." 

I tried to hold it off for as long as I could, but Lizzie had the energy of a bottle of soda that had been shaken for all if was worth. 

"Say it..."

"Oh. My. God. Elena. What was that? Please _god_ , what was that?" 

Her starry-eyed, raptured expression remained for the entirety of my recount of the previous night. I wanted to shake her. Didn't she realise how disastrously awkward and tantalisingly dangerous this whole thing was? 

"Friends with benefits?" Was all she could sensibly manage. 

"We're not friends " I took an overdue sip of coffee. "Besides, the benefits are negligible. 

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." 

"Liz, you are literally a Public Relations manager, you know how much of a mess things like this cause."

"Mm. But I'm not _Seb's_ PR..." 

"Don't call him Seb."

"Is that your pet name for him?" She winked. 

"Elizabeth. Liz. Lizzie. I'm asking you, no, begging you for some serious input on this,"

She paused, fork hovering an inch from her mouth. "Ella, I honestly don't know. Frankly, you're right, I don't think it's good. I don't like the way he treats you, or most other people for that matter, but who can say why? Maybe you need to find out." She looked at me earnestly, and I couldn't help but smile at her. 

"How do you always manage to see both sides of every argument?"

She blew me a kiss. "It's a gift. Now don't get spending the rest of the day feeling guilty about how you spoke to him. He deserves it."

I felt my eyes widen. "How did you hear that?"

She merely jabbed a piece of melon with her fork and shrugged. 

* * *

I sat in the garage, windbreaker zipped right up to my chin, sipping the last dregs of my usual subpar cup of coffee. The last few races had passed by with little drama. I'd avoided seeing Sebastian, he hadn't made any moves on Mark since Canada, and we were only a handful of points away from taking second. It felt good to be in Belgium, it was always one of my most favourite circuits. It was summer, but it was early, and there was no warmth from the rising sun that was hidden behind a blanket of cloud the morning of qualifying. 

"There she is!" Mark's warm voice pulled me from my screen. 

He gave me a loose hug, one arm around me, the other dropping a fresh coffee on the table. 

"You're here early..." I took a grateful sip. 

"Early bird and all..."

"Thinking about that brake issue? " 

He feigned offense. "Of course not!" 

"It'll be sorted. Honestly. I just checked myself."

He held his hands up in mock defense. "I believe you! Just... You know. Wanted to be here." 

I offered him a knowing smile. "Take the guys a coffee each when you check in on them, hm? They'll find you way more tolerable."

Mark tried and failed to look innocent, but nodded none the less. His mouth stretched into a huge grin. "I have a good feeling about today's qualifying, El. Good feeling."

"Thought you were nervous?" I cocked an eyebrow, taking another sip of coffee. 

I watched him tap a finger to his temple. "Excited." 

***

"I'm impressed." Sebastian's voice drew me away from the things I was hastily shoving into my weekend bag. I stiffened.

"You needed that pole." 

" _I_ didn't do anything. Mark earned it this week." 

"You don't have a say in the set-up?" A cocked eyebrow. A hint of a smile. 

I shrugged. "Just doing my job." 

He edged closer to me, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, cap stuffed into his pocket. I didn't retreat. "I can't wait to have you on my side of the garage. Your talent's wasted here." 

Another step forward. My breath quickened. "Don't you dare," I was aiming for resolute, but missed by a mile.

I knew he could sense my weakness, I watched the corners of his lips pull into a whisper of a smile. "It's a compliment. Take it." 

"It doesn't feel like a compliment. When have you ever complimented me?" I felt my resolve bolster and I took a couple of distancing steps backwards. "There can only be one World Champion in the season, doesn't mean the rest of us aren't any good." 

"Have you met Mark's replacement yet?" 

I felt a twinge of annoyance at his dismissiveness. "It hasn't been officially announced." This was true, but it didn't take a genius to work out who it was going to be by the chatter around the paddock and in the garages. 

"You're going to be sad to come over to my team, I know you can't resist a charmer." And with that, he turned on his heel and left the room. I knew my mouth was hanging open and I forced myself to regain some composure. _How dare he._

I had barely spoken to him since Canada, nothing more than pleasantries and anything team related. A twinge in my stomach accompanied the nagging thought that maybe Canada was him trying to reach out, completely unsure of himself, and I'd completely dismissed him. _And look where that's lead us. Right back to square one._ I shrugged it off for the moment, I'd agreed to meet Mark for dinner, and the last thing I needed was _him_ hanging over us all night; he unfortunately took up a lot of our conversations at the best of times. I heaved my bag over my shoulder and slunk off to my car, determined to have a pleasant time discussing tomorrow's strategy and an early night. 

* * *

I was uncharacteristically late to dinner with Mark, and by the time I'd thrown myself down at the table he was nursing his second lime and soda. 

"I'm so sorry!" I squeezed his arm as he stood up to pull out my chair, and he gave me an enquiring look. 

"Distracted?" He offered me a sympathetic smile. 

"No, no... Just scatterbrained. Sorry, Mark. You know it's not like me." 

I watched his eyes flicker across my face contemplatively, and I held my breath a little. 

"What's going on?" He brought his glass to lips and took a swig, trying for casual. 

I pulled a strand of hair out from behind my ear to twirl around my finger, trying to both look at and _not_ look at Mark at the same time. "Nothing, honestly. Just... Lots of stuff swirling round up there at the minute," I tapped my temple with my finger. 

"Elena- " 

Mark looked almost offended as I held a hand up to silence him. I felt a blush start to creep up my neck.

"I'm fine, Webber, you know me. You ready to order?" 

I searched his face for any hint that he was going to push it. Satisfied he wasn't going to, I hid behind the menu instead. Being a professional racing driver has its perks and all, but the diet during race weekends wasn't one of them. Mark ordered a steak and a baked potato, and out of pity I ordered the same. I did tell him that I absolutely _would_ be ordering the Belgian waffles for desert. He snorted. 

"Well, at least you've half tried." 

That earned him one of my pouts, but he barely smiled. There was a twinkle in his eye that I hadn't noticed before, and the line of his jaw was tight. I fiddled with my ring, a seemingly plain white gold band, the engraving on the inside simply reading _'ninety-three',_ the year of my father's first world championship. I hesitated for a second, poured myself a glass of water, took a sip. The look on Mark's face never faltered, even as he looked away. 

"Now it's my turn. What's wrong?" 

The speed in which he replied startled me, as did the tone. "We need to beat him." His eyes were dark, and his voice was low. 

"Him?" Was all I could think to say, even though I already knew the name that was going to come out of his mouth. 

"Sebastian." 

I swallowed thickly. "Tomorrow?" 

"Yes." 

I sighed. 

"And in general." 

"Mark-"

"I know! I know..." He rubbed the scruff of stubble on his chin. 

I reached a tentative hand out to his arm. "I just don't think it's possible to-"

"He just- he just pisses me right off. I'm sick of the way he thinks he's the only one with any talent, the way he doesn't give a damn who he hurts as long as he wins." 

I fought a smile. "You're telling me. But I don't think we can beat him in the championship..." 

I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood. For a brief moment I almost word-vomited everything that had happened between Sebastian and I since Monaco: the way he'd criticised, mocked, the way his he pulled me toward him so we were chest to chest... I shook my head. 

"He doesn't think we can even reach second in the championships. We do that, I _promise_ you that will piss him off no end." 

Mark eyed me conspiratorially. "But he'll still have won..." 

"Trust me. He'll be ecstatic, don't get me wrong. But once the dust settles he'll be pissed." 

He nodded, about to speak when our food was placed in front of us. He smiled appreciatively at our waiter. 

"Thank you... Ella, you know I adore you, worship you, idolise you..." 

I rolled my eyes, skewering a piece of lettuce on my plate. 

"...but what's the deal with you two?" 

I almost choked on said lettuce. "What do you mean?"

"You said he'll be pissed if we take second. Nobody gives a shit about who comes second if they're first... How are you so sure?"

"I just know." My attempt at a nonchalant shrug missed the mark, I could feel it. 

"What's he said to you Elena?" 

I looked somewhere to the left of Mark. "Nothing! I just... _know_ with people like him. He's so hell bent on me-" 

Mark's eyes widened. 

" _Us."_ i continued, "not succeeding, that the closer we get to him the more pissed off he'll be." 

He set down his knife and fork and gave me a searching look. "He gets to you more than me. Why?" 

"He doesn't!" My face was hot and neck was itching in that way it always did when I got nervous. 

"Elena?" 

The look in Mark's eyes was so sincere, so imploring, his expression so warm, that I almost forgot how to breathe. I took a huge gulp of water and crossed my arms across the table, leaning into the annoyingly intuitive and incredibly persuasive man opposite. 

"He hates me." 

"Hates a strong word, El..."

"No, he hates me. Can't stand me. Doesn't think I deserve to be here. Doesn't trust me "

"He said that?"

"In so many words..." 

"It's just competitiveness...."

"Do you hate _his_ race engineer?" I narrowed my eyes. 

"No, but..." 

"Monaco this year. He made a bet with me." I shocked myself, I didn't want to go this deep, admit this much. I chewed my lip. 

"A bet? What kind of bet?" 

"That I couldn't get you to second..."

Mark's brow furrowed, and I thought I saw his eyes flash with something. "What were the odds?"

"If he won, I'd go work for him..."

He waved a dismissive hand. "It doesn't work like that, Elena. You know it doesn't." 

"You don't think a soon to be four time world champ doesn't get what he wants?" 

"Well, no, but... Surely...Elena?" 

I nodded. 

"Did you agree?" 

I swallowed nervously, contemplating my options. "Yes."

I searched Mark's face for any trace of irritation. Instead, he smiled broadly. 

"We'll kick his ass." 

* * *

Sebastian lay on the sofa in his suite, the TV the only thing illuminating the room that was big enough for an entire family. The sun was down, the moon full in the sky. It was a clear night; that boded well for the morning. He flicked idly through the channels: news;a cheesy slapstick comedy movie; a re-run of an earlier football game. He sighed heavily. Webber was on pole, he knew he'd have a tough go of it tomorrow if he wanted to get round him, but he was nothing if not determined. 

She'd really made that car tick this afternoon. The set-up was perfect for this track, and Webber hadn't put a foot wrong. Just thinking about it made his skin prickle. Why was she so infuriating, so blasé, so... _modest?_ Why did she get under his skin. Because she was a woman? He highly doubted it, Sebastian was all for anybody working in F1 as long as they had the talent. As long as they'd earned it. _That was it._ She hadn't earned her position, her success, it was all through her father. Besides, she'd said it as well as him, _people are allowed to just not like each other._ That was fine. She irritated him, he irritated her- perfectly normal and perfectly acceptable. 

Sebastian pressed his palms against his eyes, throwing his legs up on the long sofa, trying to find a comfortable position. His curled head flopped against a cushion, and he let out a quiet groan. Try as he might, her face still flickered in the back of his mind; her eyes, Atlantic blue, and the way they crinkled when she smiled at someone other than him. The curve of her mouth, the almost olive colour of her skin. He thought about the way her hair fell down her back when she took off her cap- she never tied it up; the way she chewed the end of her pen whenever she was thinking. He shook his head: he was being ridiculous. She was beautiful, yes, but they hated each other, and she was on the wrong team. Sebastian felt a tightness in his stomach- did he hate her so much because he was trying to protect them both from something dangerous? Something that couldn't be? 

Almost unconsciously, he slipped his phone out from his pocked and opened up the web browser. Not really knowing what he expected to find, he tapped her name into the search engine. A bio from the RBR website, something on LinkedIn. His eyes lingered on the images bar. A photo of her and Webber from this afternoon, his arm slung lazily over her shoulder, a huge grin on both of their faces; her sitting alone on the pit wall, sleeves rolled up, eyes somewhere in the distance, the breeze picking up wisps of her hair; her sitting on top of a Rally car, next to her brother Alexei, both holding thumbs up to the camera. 

He almost fell flat on his face in his hurry to get out of his room. He yanked on the first pair of trainers he found and stretched his arms into the sleeve of a plain navy hoody. His feet were taking him somewhere that his brain wasn't privy to, but he knew he needed some air. He wondered absentmindedly what she was doing now. It was still early-ish, she could be anywhere. He jabbed the call button a little too agressively, and when he slinked inside the lift he headed straight down. A little tiredly, the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, the upscale restaurant illuminated with far too many candles to his left. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of strawberry blonde. She was sitting at a table by the window, leaning with crossed arms across the table to the last person in the world he wanted to see: Webber. It made him itch, something twinged in his stomach that he didn't want to think about and he dodged behind one the huge planters and out of the double doors in front of him. He ended up in a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the hotel, its rooms sending shivering patches of orange light to pool on the pebbled floor. He could see the back of his room from here, he knew because it was the only one with the windows open, and the curtain was blowing gently in the evening breeze. He sat down heavily on one of the stone benches away from the door. 

_Guess that's what you can do when you're not fighting for the championship,_ he thought drily, _take your race engineer on a date._ He plucked at his sleeve. He wondered what she was like when she _liked you._ Was she funny? Charming? Gentle? He'd known her almost five years, and he knew none of this. How did she look at you, when there was something more than disdain? Was she tactile? Would her arm come out to nudge you as you walked together, would she reach out a hand to squeeze your hand or your shoulder? He shook his head vigorously. He was being childish, short-sighted. He thought about her at the garage this time, how arrogantly she walked around, how everyone always went out of their way to greet her, how her voice was loud enough to carry over to his side of the garage when she was yelling for something. _Ah._ He thought smugly. _Balance is restored._

He slapped his hands to knees as he got up, a wry smile lingering on his lips. The breeze was picking up a bit now, and it forced a shiver out him. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, not even bothering to look back over at the restaurant on his way back to the lifts. He glanced upwards. _Why is it always on the top floor when you need it?"_ He heard the clink of heels behind him, and turned to do that _roll your eyes and gesture to the lft_ thing you do when you're waiting.

Elena stood behind him, arm linked loosely with Webber's. He froze, almost dumbfounded. Her black jeans made her look taller than she was, but even in her heels she was overshadowed by Mark. He watched her tuck a loose strand of hair awkwardly behind her ear. 

"Alright, Mate?" It was Mark who spoke first, slapping Sebastian's shoulders almost genially. "What're you doing slinking around down here?" 

Sebastian's eyes met hers. She didn't smile. That seemed to fortify him. "Just getting a bit of fresh air... big day tomorrow, no? Shouldn't you be getting an early night? Got a lot of work to do to keep me behind, don't you think?" 

To his credit, Mark was barely fazed, but Sebastian saw something flash in Elena's blue eyes. "Very funny mate. What do you think this is?" The Aussie gestured between himself and Elena. "We're scheming Sebby, don't you worry." 

He forced a laugh, "glad to hear it... it's no fun when there's no competition. Anyway..." he pointed to the doors now sliding open in front of him. "My ride's here. You'll get the next one? Gute Nacht!" Sebastian slid in through the doors without a second look back at either of them. 


	7. Crossing A Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in posting- time just seems to slip away from me. I do hope you enjoy this next chapter! As always, sometimes comments and kudos can be the only thing that gets me writing some days, so they are always greatly appreciated :) 
> 
> Again, as always, any regard for actual race history has been ignored to make sure it fits... Writer's prerogative. 
> 
> x

On Sunday, I awoke much earlier than I hoped to, and lay, tangled in the covers of my bed for almost an hour before I even contemplated moving. I picked up my phone. A couple of texts from Lizzie, one from my mom, and one from Mark. 

_We'll get him tomorrow. Trust me. Second place here we come. Night, Elena x_

I must have crashed within moments of my head hitting the pillow. I smiled at the message, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off my mind- telling somebody else made me feel like it really wasn't a big deal after all. Besides, Mark was thrilled that I had so much faith in him. 

I rolled unelegently out of the warmth of my bed, padding over to window to watch the sunrise. I felt good, _hopeful._ I knew we'd done everything right in qualifying, and it proved how in sync Mark and I were when we worked together. Robbie still hovered over my shoulder occasioanlly, but he was leaving the paddock after this season to spend more time with his family, so he was being 'gently phased out', as he so carefully put it. I stretched into the warmth of the sun, savouring the way a good night's sleep had seemed to have fixed it all. Must have been the waffles. I took my time getting ready, connected my phone to my bluetooth speaker and relished in the quiet solitude of my hotel room, with the now risen sun seeping warm light in between the gaps in the blinds. I even did yoga. Yep. I was truly _on my shit_ as Lizzie would say. 

By the time I slipped into my car, I was feeling extremely zen, _far_ too zen to be on my way to a Grand Prix that could potentially bring my driver into second in the championships. I sang along to the radio, wound down the window and let the morning in and by the time I arrived, I had basically forgotten what I was even there for. The mechanics were already working on the car when I got into the garage, and I ordered a tray of coffees to be brought into them, just in case. When Mark arrived, he was feeling remarkably less _zen_ than I was.

"You're too calm..."

I slapped him on the shoulder and he gave me a flthy look that an outsider would think was serious.

"I am _not_ too calm. Besides, isn't that a good thing?"

"Nah. You're lulling me into a false sense of security." His serious expression slipped as he cracked a tentatve smile. 

"Mark, light of my life, my most favourite driver on the grid..."

" _Of all time..."_

"On the grid... need I remind you what my dad did for a living? We know what we can control, and what we can control is going well at the minute." I waved at the car. "Anything else, we don't need to think about. We know our initial strategy, and you'll be pleased to know I am familiar with at least _one_ alternative strategy..."

"Piss off!"

 _"Multiple_ alternative strategies, all of which you will become privy to if the circumstances necessitate it..."

"Stop talking like that."

"It's my chilled out vibe. Don't you like it?" I mimed reclining back in my chair. 

"Nah. You're creeping me out." He pulled me up by arms so I was sitting up right again. 

I sighed. "All being well, you hold position from the start. We build that gap up, then we pit you first-"

"If there's a gap."

"No, when Vettel is a tenth of a second behind you, of course when there's a gap. We've got this. I know it." 

Mark gave me a strained smile. "I know, Ella. Just want the job done today, you know. If we do it today, we've done it. Best chance we've got."

"I know. You'll be great." 

* * *

I'd been told how amazing it felt to stand on the podium, the cheers, the music, the feeling of the champagne soaking your skin, the sheer pride and priviledge, but it was better than I'd even imagined. I didn't even notice the other two drivers; it was just Mark and I up there, him embracing me so tightly I couldn't breathe. My team shirt stuck to my skin, my hair was soaked with champagne and _my god_ it felt incredible. We needed this. Mark needed this, and by the time we'd stepped down his grin had taken over his whole face.

"I told you, didn't I?" He passed me a towel and slung an arm around my shoulder.

I couldn't help myself, I burst out laughing, bringing my face into his chest. "You sure did. You did it, Webber. It's all you."

He landed a kiss on my forehead, but recoiled. "Ugh, you're soaked." 

"And whose fault is that?" I nudged his side. 

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"I beg to differ." 

"I was worried about that tyre strategy but my god, if I trusted you before... genius." 

"It just felt right." I shrugged, feeling a blush creep up my neck. 

"Genius..." 

"So how do we celebrate?" 

I almost bumped into Mark as he stood still in his tracks. 

"Monaco."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Monaco?"

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. 

"Why not? We get a plane this evening, we can be there by the time the clubs _really_ open."

"I don't know... Seems a bit spontaneous."

"Elena, baby, everything about today has been spontaneous!" He ruffled my hair and I contorted myself to get away from him. The boyish glint in his eye and the fact that he'd just claimed second in the world championships, against all the odds, made it impossible to refuse. 

"Let's do it. Get Lizzie to book a few booths. You deserve it."

Mark kissed my cheek, sticky from the champagne. " _We_ deserve it." 

* * *

I had about an hour until I had to leave for the airport, Mark had asked me to make sure the boys from the garage knew about our little excursion, and I was scrambling to get myself together. I stuffed a few rogue socks into my suitcase and did a final sweep of my room, still reeling from the excitement of the day, feeling an almost youthful buzz from Mark's spontaneous plans. As my room door clicked shut behind me, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

_Guess you win._

Sebastian's words stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't for a second believe he would give a damn about our bet after he'd just cemented his next championship. My thumb lingered over the keyboard of my phone, but before I could even consider a reply a new message pinged up. 

_Celebrate with me, Prinzessin._

My heart missed a beat, pulse quickening. What the hell did he want? Was he angry? Had he just grown up and accepted it? I paused for a second before I tapped out a response. 

_Monaco_. 

* * *

Sebastian didn't even hesitate. He tapped his phone frantically, putting it to his ear before it even started ringing. 

"We're going to Monaco."

His race engineer paused for a second, clearly considering. "Monaco?"

"We're celebrating. Let's go all fucking out.' 

Another pause. "Ok. I'm on it.".

Sebastian's heart was beating hard in his chest and he hated it. He don't know what possessed him. Anger? Bitterness? Lust?

No. It wasn't Lust. Definitely not. It was anger, he wanted to see her to get under her skin. He'd find a way. She wasn't joining him next year, fine. He didn't want her anyway. If she was that good, it would have been Webber celebrating the World Championship tonight. He stuffed his clothes into his case without thinking, mindlessly screwing his shirts into tight balls and stuffing them inside. The feeling of elation was there, _god_ was it there. But there was a darkness to it, something lingering in the peripherals of his happiness, seeping in. He wanted to celebrate with his team more than anything, get the chance to spray them all with champagne, knock a few drinks back, talk to the pretty little rich girls that frequented the Monegasque bars, but he also wanted to see her. 

He tapped out a message on his phone, his fingers twitching over the screen. 

_Find out where they're going._

A reply came within seconds. _Who?_

_Webber's lot._

_Why?_

This made him pause. 

_We should celebrate as a team, no?_

A thumbs up emoji was the response. Good. That's that done. 

He couldn't tell anyone why he really wanted that question answered. It felt illicit, sordid. It made him feel dirty. The age old reason of wanting to see a girl was perfectly valid, innocent even, but in his mind he'd twisted it into something more salacious. He would make her life hell, he thought to himself. 

* * *

Lizzie had taught me to always pack an outfit you'd be happy to meet your future husband in, and I was currently yanking it over my head, spluttering and spitting my own hair out of my mouth as it got stuck. It was my favourite dress, a knee length emerald green number, cut low on my chest, with the kind of straps that made wearing a bra impossible. The way it clung to my body was, to give myself some credit, pretty impressive, and I was quite angry that it was Lizzie who'd picked it out for me in the first place. I loved the feel of the velvet as my arms grazed my body, and once my hair had been done, despite the fact that I was running on empty, I was pretty damn excited to celebrate.

Mark knocked on my door at twelve thirty, the fact that it was AM went against all of my elderly person tendencies but hey, tonight we were untouchable. I felt a little bit flushed when I saw him standing there, navy suit trousers, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, but quickly remembered who he was and who I was and had a mental cold shower. 

"You look dynamite, mate." He said, stooping to kiss my cheek.

"As do you, our man of the hour..." I winked, linking my arm with his as we made our way to our car in companionable silence. Lizzie somehow managed to book a private room in one of the most exclusive clubs in Monaco, and by the time we got there, Mark and I were pretty giddy with excitement... That, plus the hip flask Mark had brought with him for the ride... 

I somehow managed to exit the car elegantly, and as we made our way inside I had the sense this was going to be a crazy night. The music was good, but I could feel it thumping in my chest and I knew I'd need more drinks for it to be bearable. _Any excuse_ , I thought to myself. 

I found Lizzie at the bar, looking devilish in her little back dress, and was buoyed to see that everyone from the garage had made it. Mark bought a round of shots for everyone, and we stood in a huddle, knocking them back, stumbling about into each other's arms as we laughed at the disgustingly addictive burn of the alcohol. He bought another round, another, another... 

I felt my head buzzing as we danced in a flailing group, inhibitions finally gone, the happiness acting like a high on top of whatever we'd been guzzling Lizzie grabbed my arm, standing only a foot in front of me but through the dizzying lights I could barely see her.

"Have you heard from him?" She had to shout in my ear to be heard. 

I didn't want to think about him. Or the message I'd sent to him earlier that day. "No..." I lied, hoping that the general ambience of the club would disguise the pure bullshit I was trying to peddle, and the fact that she was wobbling on her heels. 

I felt an arm snake around my waist, and I watched Lizzie raise her eyebrows at whoever had come to snatch me from behind. 

"Come dance with me, genius." 

Mark's arm stiffened around me, locking me into place, and I could smell his cologne mixed with whatever he'd been drinking and I felt a twinge in my stomach. Inappropriate, I thought. How old was I again? How old was Mark? I didn't remember, but I let him lead me to the dancefloor, Lizzie disappearing behind us as I let my body press into his. I swayed against him, dizzy, but too happy to care. His fingers lingered on my arm, warm against my skin, and I felt giddy and happy and tired and awake at the same time. The music thumped in my ears, the light distorting all the bodies around me apart from Mark, solid as ever, right in front of me. I slipped my arm around his neck, instinctively he pulled me closer, our bodies bumping against the music. 

"I didn't think we would do it, Lena," he mumbled into my ear, breath hot against my skin. "I owe it all to you."

I felt the electric shock of his lips grazing my neck, my head spinning. He interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing me closer, the heat of his body and the scent of his cologne a heady mix. I thought vaguely about how this was wrong: I was his race engineer, we worked together, but the alcohol reminded me that he was tall, handsome and oh so close. Plus, he was retiring this year anyway. I tilted my head so that his lips brushed my own, waiting. He hesitated for a second, then his lips captured mine with fervour, and I let him, his hand bunching the fabric of my dress as he pulled me closer, both of us unsteady on our feet, which was the sign that we should stop that we both ignored. He tasted of tequila, the sharp tang of lime dancing across my tongue I gripped the collar of his shirt to steady myself. 

Somewhere over the music I heard a cheer, as if someone had just chugged a beer or broken a bottle or something, and I managed to tear my lips away from Mark's to look over his shoulder. 

My stomach dropped to my feet, and I felt the previously soothing burn of alcohol threaten to rise up to my throat. Sebastian's eyes locked with with mine for a second, I could see that much over the lights and the bodies, and I remembered fleetingly the fact that I was most likely the reason that he was here. I untangled myself from Mark's steadying form; if he called after me I didn't notice, and followed Sebastian's disappearing body through the throngs of revellers. I watched him slip into one of the closed Private Rooms, and reached it myself shortly after. 

It was dark in there. It being a Sunday night it was busy, but people tended to host their private events on a Friday or Saturday. The music was quieter in here, a dull throb through the thick walls. He was facing the door, but not looking at me. He was wearing a white t-shirt, apparently a staple for him even at a black tie venue, and grey jeans: the same outfit he'd worn when be visited me in my hotel room all those weeks ago.

"You look good," I managed to blurt out. It wasn't a lie. 

He didn't say anything. Why I was trying to appease him I had no idea. 

"Congratulations... Four time World Champ, that's something, huh?" 

"Tell me why I'm mad." He spat, the acid in his tone taking me aback. 

"Wh- what do you mean?" 

"You tell me you're going to be here, then I walk into that. Why am I mad?" 

"I-" 

"I don't know what I was expecting to find here, maybe to mock you a little bit, to gloat, to tell you that I didn't care that you weren't coming with me, that I was wrong. How dare you let me come here and see that." His tone was clipped, calm enough that it made feel uneasy. 

"How dare I _what?"_ I felt my cheeks burn. "Why would you care? What does it matter to you?"

"You tell me!"

"I wish I could! You're acting like petulant child!" 

He pursed his lips as if on cue, and I felt my resolve steadying. 

"You wanted to celebrate, I told you where we were going to be. What I do while I'm here is none of your concern."

"You made it my concern when you invited me." 

"I didn't invite you! I told you we were going to be here, you didn't have to come!" I was shouting now, knowing that we wouldn't be heard made me braver. 

He took two long strides and closed the gap between us. His hand gripped my wrist and the feel of his skin on mine burned. "You knew I would come!" 

We were face to face now, his eyes blazing. I wanted to take a step back, to increase the distance, but I didn't want to back down. "Jesus, Sebastian, you're giving me whiplash! I get it, you hate me, you're mad at me, you envy Mark, whatever! But stop yanking me around! I try to extend an olive branch, and you make it about you and Mark; I tell you where we're going to be, you make it about _me_ and Mark... You can't be angry about any of this..."

His eyes flashed and he gripped my wrist tighter. "I don't like not being in control." 

I couldn't help it, a dry laugh escaped me. "Sure feels like you're in control here, Sebastian." 

"You don't get it." He yanked my arm toward him, closing the gap. I could smell his toothpaste, his laundry soap, his cologne. His eyes flitted to darkness and then suddenly, his face softened. 

"I don't know what you do to me." He uncurled my hand from its fist, his fingers tracing my extended hand. I thought he was going to lock his fingers into mine, but he squeezed them into a fist again. He traced a line up my arm, bringing up gooseflesh, and let it rest on my collar bone, still. The heat of his body somehow made me shiver, and I had to stop myself wincing. 

"I don't know either. You treat me like _shit._ You treat me like I'm nothing, _nothing!_ I don't know how frail your ego must be to do that, but _god_ , I would think four world championships would make you untouchable..." 

"I'm not untouchable..." Closer now. Inches away from me. 

My breath stalled. 

"Why do you hate me?" 

"Because you are ruining everything for me!" He snatched his hand away from me and with it his warmth, all the softness gone in an instant. "I secure another world title today, and _fuck_ I'm happy... But you, you find a way to burrow yourself into me. I can't stop thinking about you, about how mad you make me, how pissed off I am that you actually did what you said you would, about how you never even seem to give me a second's thought!" 

Before I even knew what was happening, I felt myself being pushed against the dark wall of the room, the breath knocked out of my body. I didn't resist as Sebastian's slid a hand up my stomach, to my neck, stopping to cup my cheek, one arm pressing on the wall above my head, surrounding me. I felt a twinge in my stomach that I didn't want to admit to, and heat rose in my cheeks. 

"You _are_ nothing. _Should be_ nothing. But you're not." 

I stiffened as he brought his forehead to rest on mine, watching me through hooded eyes. I risked a breath, bringing a shaking hand to his hair, twisting it in between my fingers, my eyes falling to his lips. He slid a finger down from my cheek, it naturally finding its way to the space between my breasts, the only part uncovered by my dress. My breath hitched again and I felt my lips parting as I watched his eyes rake down to follow his finger. 

"Elena?" 


	8. By A Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! This one has been in my drafts, and I know I've only just updated, but why not put it out in the world if it's finished? Enjoy! X

I should have known that Mark would follow me; one second my lips were on his, our bodies pressed together, the next minute I'd flitted off into the club after his teammate.

I'll give Mark credit, he didn't look anything more than shocked. At first. As the realisation hit him, his brows knitted together in a frown, his lips a tight line. I wanted to reach out, to grab onto his sleeve and have him drag me out of there like a child, but the way his face had set into a look of both anger and betrayal winded me.

"Mark, I-"

"Nah, don't bother mate. I have eyes."

I looked to Sebastian, as if he would somehow make it better, to tell Mark that it was a misunderstanding, that I was innocent in all of this. It stung that it was partly a lie.

"Mark, please. If you'd just let me explain..."

"I can explain..." 

Sebastian. Relief washed over me. I took a breath.

"You need to control your engineer. Can't keep her hands to herself. Desperate, really."

I was crippled by that. I felt Sebastian shove past me to the door, Mark stepping back as if he didn't want him to be near him.

I stumbled toward Mark, hand reaching out, alcohol impairing my motor skills but not the pain.

"You don't believe him, surely?" I managed to whimper, heart thudding even louder than the music outside.

His lip twitched, and the way his voice sounded when he replied was something I'd never heard before. "Oh, what a fool I've been..."

It was ice cold. Sardonic. Wounding. I felt myself pulled toward him but he wouldn't have it, turning on his heel as if he couldn't bear to even look at me. I didn't know which of the betrayals he was hurt by- the fact that it was his team mate or the fact that I was kissing him just minutes ago. I felt nauseous, my legs buckled and I found myself leaning against the wall for support, hidden behind the door, sliding down to sit. I wasn't even sure what had happened, but I felt the warmth of the tears spilling down my cheeks before I even had time to think about it. I wanted to know which of the shitty things I'd done tonight Mark was more pissed off about; why I let Sebastian near enough to kiss me? Why he wanted to? Most of all I wanted to know what kind of self sabotaging idiot would think what I did tonight was a good idea. I let out a wracking sob, struggling to get my breath, as the alcohol swelled my emotions. I wasn't sure how long I sat there, tears streaming, but I was grateful when I felt Lizzie's tiny hand in mine, pulling me up and out of the club.

* * *

I had decided, while drunkenly telling Lizzie everything, that I cared more about hurting Mark than I did about what happened with Sebastian. I should have been used to Sebastian by now. I then decided that I had to find out what part of what I did had hurt him. I thought about it for a long time while Lizzie brewed me a coffee. There was never anything between Mark and I that I had noticed before tonight. Or this morning. Or whatever. Did I find him attractive? Yes. Did I ever think I would ever kiss him? No. We were friends, we worked together, the thought of it had never crossed my mind, only fleetingly when I caught a glimpse of his tanned arms or his t-shirt had hitched up and I'd caught a glimpse of his toned stomach. Normal thoughts that a normal red-blooded woman would have when an attractive man is in close proximity.

We'd been drinking tonight, a lot. We were elated: elation can make you do crazy things.

So that left the fact that I'd caught up against a wall with his teammate. His biggest rival. His enemy.

"What is wrong with me?" I groaned, squeezing my palms into my eyes to stop another wave of tears. 

"It wasn't your fault." Lizzie offered, setting yet another steaming mug in front of me while I sat there feeling sorry for myself. It was quite pathetic. 

"I shouldn't have gone after him. Why did I go after him?" 

"You put out fires. You saw Sebastian, you knew he'd have had some sort of unreasonable reaction, for whatever reason, and wanted to fix it. You're not a bad person." She placed a perfectly manicured hand on top of mine. 

"I sure feel like it."

"Fuck Sebastian, If he's hurt, well... he has no damn right to be. He doesn't own you, hell, he doesn't even like you. Don't think on him for one second. Mark's your priority."

I sniffed. "You're right. Lizzie..." I watched my friend's head loll on her shoulders, saw the dark circles under her eyes. "Go back to your room. You need sleep."

"So do you." 

"I'll go to sleep. Go, really. I'll be fine. We can talk more in the morning." 

She looked at me for what felt like eons, and finally relented. "Fine. Text me when you wake up, 'kay?" 

I saluted her. "Aye, aye, captain." 

"I love you, you hot mess." 

"Shut up. I love you too." 

****

Somewhere between falling asleep and the day breaking, I woke up freezing. I fell asleep on top of the sheets, curtains wide open, air con blowing cold. I whined, rolling out of bed to throw on some leggings and a cardigan, aggressively tapping the wall controls to stop the damned air conditioner blowing freezing air. I thought I'd wake up and forget what had happened for a moment, but instead as soon as I opened my eyes the dull weight in my stomach reminded me that I was, as Lizzie said, indeed a hot mess. I pulled the duvet off the bed, wrapping it around me, and ambled over to the sofa, flicking on the TV as I passed. I grabbed my phone, flopping down on the softness of the seat, praying that I'd see something to thaw a little bit of the ice that had settled in my stomach. Nothing. I tapped out a message, knowing it was probably futile. 

Come over. Please, hear me out. 

I must have fallen asleep, lulled by the monotony of the TV, because the knock on my door startled me. I almost toppled over in my haste to get to door, but at least had the foresight to stop and look in the mirror. Thank God Lizzie had made me take off my makeup.

Mark stood in the doorway, joggers on, hoody zipped up to his chin. "May I?" 

I stepped out of the way to let him inside, keeping my distance, letting him choose where he wanted to put himself. "Coffee?" I tried, my voice not much more than a croak. 

He nodded, hesitant to sit, and instead made his way over to my balcony door, where the lights in the marina glinted in the tar-like darkness of the sea. He still didn't speak. I approached him tentatively, coffee mugs steaming in my hand. 

"Open it. Let's get some air." 

I followed him out onto the balcony, grateful for my thick socks and giant cardigan. He sat down, and I did the same. 

"Mark, I-"

"Hey, don't-"

"Sebastian lied. He pushed me against that wall, he put me in that position-"

"You followed him." Mark said plainly, eyes never leaving mine.

"He acts weird around me! I knew if he saw us together like that he'd- he'd.."

"Why does it matter? He's a grown-up." 

"You don't understand.. I told you what he was like... he acts like he owns me but he hates me..."

"Nobody owns you but you, Elena. Definitely not him." 

I fell silent. Bit my lip, fiddled with my sleeve. "Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to. Because you're gorgeous. Because I like you. Does it need an explanation?" 

"I just- never thought you thought about me like that."

"Oh, Elena. I forgot you're still a child." He chuckled, but it stung, and I felt myself blush. 

"I'm not a child, I'm-"

"Twenty-six... You may as well be twenty-one. I don't need to explain myself. I wanted something, I took it. You wanted it too, at the time."

I blinked..

"Didn't you?" 

I thought about the way his mouth traced a line across my throat, the way he gripped the fabric of my dress and pulled me close. I suddenly became very aware that I was wearing pajamas.

"Yes."

"But you ran." He said simply. 

"Not from you."

"To him." 

"Mark, I don't know what to tell you. I didn't know what it meant, I didn't know if it was anything more than the alcohol. I didn't think you'd care."

"I wouldn't kiss you if I didn't care.".

"I know. I just-" I floundered a bit, not knowing what to say or where to look. 

"I'm not in love with you, if that's what you're wondering." 

"Ouch." 

"C'mon, you know I don't mean it like that. You're amazing, Elena. I know that. Whatever he sees in you I'm telling you I see more. He sees you as something to lust after, something he can't have because he's got some twisted idea that it's wrong. He might see your ass, your tits..."

I flinched at that, but he held a hand up to quiet me.

"...but I see what you're capable of. I've seen your true mettle, I know you deserve every single thing that has come your way." 

To say I'd never thought about Mark in any other way than my friend and my driver, I wanted nothing more now than for him to pull me into his arms. But he didn't. 

"You ran to him, after all we've been through. Doesn't matter that you didn't know whether it was a drunken kiss or the start of something more. You ran to him." 

I watched as Mark set down his empty coffee cup, staring out onto the silent Marina. He glanced to me cautiously and stood up.

"Don't go." I reached out a desperate hand and he took it, squeezing it with the sort of finality that's enough to make you sick. As he passed me, he pulled the thick wool of my cardigan back onto my shoulder, as if he sensed the goosebumps that had risen in the chilly air. That was more than Sebastian had done when I stood before him, half exposed, wearing the same thing. 

I followed him to the door, confused to the point of feeling tears welling in my eyes. 

"You'll have fun next year, Daniel Ricciardo's your driver. Another Australian you can toy with."

That stung. The door clicked shut and I let the weight of it all collapse down onto me. 

* * *

"You're moping, kroshka, what's wrong?" I sat at mom's kitchen table as she bustled around me, early morning sun filtering in through the blinds and bouncing off the white kitchen. I'd flown home as soon as I'd had the energy to book the flight, and I thought I'd managed to disguise it as a casual drop in between races. I am forever underestimating my mom.

"Have you ever felt like you've let something slip away that you never had in the first place?" 

"A man?" 

I gave her a pointed look. "Anything, mama. Anything that leaves a gaping hole that you didn't even know it was filling." 

"Everything happens for a reason, Elena. You know that. Sometimes you miss things by a thread; like stretching to reach a balloon just as the string's out of your reach. But there's always a reason." 

"Doesn't feel like it right now." 

"Give it time." 

* * *

I didn't think things would ever be the same between Mark and I. He was angry because I didn't even give things a chance to become something. Because I'd chosen Sebastian. Because at the time, that's who I deemed to be more important. It sliced like a knife every time I thought about, about how little I'd considered that Mark might actually care, and it hurt me to look at him. I deserved it. 

It was after the race in Texas. Mark had been on pole, Sebastian had won the race. He was angry, not at me, but at the world. Tired of having things slip through his grasp and into the hands of Sebastian Vettel. I found him in his motorhome, long after the race, the sun almost set. Debrief was long, there were tweaks we needed to make before the next race, and it dragged on no end. He was finally peeling off his team clothes, for almost the last time, shafts of setting sunlight setting him in half shadow. I watched him for a second. 

"Kiss me."

He turned slowly, shirt dropping to the floor. 

"What?"

"Kiss me." I repeated, my eyes never leaving his.

"Elena..." 

"Mark." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm selfish and I want you to. Because I feel like I'm missing something. I know that this is never going to be anything now, but I want to know what it would feel like if it could." 

Incomprehensibly, he didn't hesitate. He closed the gap between us in elegant strides, closing his hand around my wrist and pulling me into him. I dropped my bag to the floor with a clatter as our mouths crashed together, my fingers twisting round his belt loops as if he would disappear. His strong hand came up to cup my cheek, his other tracing circles across my back where he'd slid his hand beneath my shirt, and I gasped into his mouth at his touch. 

"This isn't fair." He mumbled into my mouth, the hand on my back now shifting to grab my hip, pushing me backwards toward the bedroom. 

"I know." I breathed between kisses, but still, I pushed the bedroom closed behind us and abandoned all thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Short and sweet, but necessary.  
> I have a few more up my sleeve now, I've really gotten back into the groove of things and honestly, this story is occupying all of my thoughts!  
> As always, your comments are greatly appreciated and enjoyed- please let me know what you think, good or bad! <3


	9. Pool Sides & Palm Trees

I lay staring at the ceiling, Mark's hand draped over my bare thigh, the room fully dark now. 

"We have to go."

I turned to look at him, but the darkness was thick and I could barely make out his eyes. 

"I don't want to." 

His warm hand squeezed my thigh. "I know, but we have to. They're starting to move out, they're going to wonder why we're still here."

"Does it matter?"

He laughed a warm laugh. "Yes, it matters. I don't think you want some rogue photographer catching us leaving my motorhome after dark." 

"Does it matter?" I said again, propping myself up on my elbow to face him, finger tracing wavy lines along his chest. 

"I'm not retired yet, Elena. It would be messy. It would hurt your credibility more than mine."

"That's sexist." 

"That's true. You know it's a fucking man's world out there better than anyone. Don't give them any ammunition." 

I sighed, knowing no matter how much it pissed me off it was true. I wanted to stay in that moment for a while longer, to not have to think about the outside world, to hold onto this little pocket of comfort. 

Thankfully, Mark wasn't in too much of a rush, he lay next to me, his breathing quiet. 

"What do we do know?" I whispered, grateful he couldn't see my face in the darkness. 

"You know what we do know, Lena..."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." 

I felt the sting of tears, but I took a steadying breath. I didn't push it. I waited for him to speak again.

"It's too late for us, Elena. Maybe it could have been something, I don't know. After this...'

He gestured to my body, wrapped in his sheets. 

"...I wish it could have been. I just thought I'd take the chance, you know? But that doesn't take away the fact that you ran to him. You made your choice. Whatever messy shit is going on between you and Vettel, I'm too old to deal with it... I'm retiring soon you know "

I nudged him. "An athlete's retirement, you're not exactly claiming your pension."

"What I'm saying is I want something simple, something that's not messy, something easy. Vettel clearly wants to jump your bones, whether it's something more, fuck knows. But I'll let you find that out for yourself."

I pouted, whether Mark could see it or not. "But this feels right."

"I know. But it's not."

"No." 

* * *

"Ohhhhhh my God. I love Brazilian food." I watched Lizzie wipe her mouth with a napkin, a look of pure joy on her face. 

  
"This is not Brazilian food. This is just food... In Brazil." 

  
"Spoil sport..." 

  
Our hotel restaurant was buzzing, the day before qualifying for the Brazilian Grand Prix. Lizzie had somehow managed to convince me to leave the hoards of data from practise upstairs and come down to eat, and she'd obviously been without company for long enough as she could not stop talking. I was grateful for it. 

  
"Soooo... Don't you want to know why I asked your for dinner?" Lizzie tossed her napkin onto her now empty plate, taking a swig of her soda.

  
"You're lonely?

  
She quirked an eyebrow. "Funny. So... You know we're getting a new driver next year."

  
I laughed into my drink. "Getting a new driver? They're not dogs." 

  
"You know what I mean. Well... I invited him for drinks with us tonight! Now it's all official, I thought we should get to know him better!"

  
"Over drinks?" I cocked an eyebrow. 

  
"Of course, however else!" 

  
"I don't know... Maybe back at the factory?"

  
"Pfft." She waived an airy hand. "This is way more fun." She paused, looking contemplative. "I'm sorry it's not Mark." 

  
"What? No. I'm fine, it's fine. When's he getting here?"

  
"Right now!"

  
She stood up from her seat, waving at someone in the distance. 

  
"Daniel! Come join us. You've met Elena before, right?"

He was taller than I remembered, tanned and floppy haired. He put a warm hand on my shoulder, leaned in to kiss my cheek. 

  
"Briefly, in passing. Good to meet you properly, and over drinks, too. I'm down for that." A wide grin spread across his face and I couldn't help but return it. He was only a year younger than me, but he a kind of boyish energy that made me feel ancient in comparison. 

  
"Webber up to second, god, didn't expect that one mate, I'm looking forward to working with you." 

  
"Think you can beat Vettel?" Lizzie's words made me jump, as if I'd forgotten Sebastian even existed. I thought I'd done quite a good job since Monaco. 

  
"I think we could give it a good go, eh Elena?" He have me a roguish wink, and for a brief second I was filled with a burning desire to do just that... To completely destroy Sebastian, to make him pay for everything he'd destroyed for me. Then I remembered it would be Daniel's first year at Red Bull, and figured that second or third might have been the most reasonable expectation for this year. Still, stranger things had happened. Much stranger. 

* * *

Sebastian hadn't said a word to her since Monaco. Not even in team meetings, not even in passing. He heard that his new teammate had been sniffing around, yet another Aussie git for her to fall in love with. At least he was new to the team, at least he didn't stand a chance at getting anywhere near him next year. Although with Elena...   
She should have been with him, he thought. Not that he needed any help dominating the sport. 

Miles had insisted that he join for him dinner the night before qualifying, even though he knew it was a stupid idea and that they should be preparing. Still, he'd won the championship, what did it matter now? He'd win again tomorrow. 

"...Sebastian? Seb!" Miles' voice shook him from his reverie and he turned to look in the direction that his engineer's head was tilting. "She's been looking at you all night..."

  
His gaze fell upon a table of two women, the one facing him all curly blonde hair and perfect features. She was gorgeous, no question, but he felt himself held back by something. 

  
"Not really the right night for buying women drinks, is it? I've got to drive tomorrow." 

  
"Mate, you're mad, even if you just give her your number... Room or otherwise..."

  
"I'm not giving her my room number, god knows who she is..." 

  
"She's interested, is who she is. Besides, you've been a soppy bastard recently, I'm sure she could help with that."

  
"I'm going to settle up." Sebastian pushed himself up from the table, dropping his napkin onto his empty plate with a little too much aggression. The place was packed, and he had to squeeze himself through the throngs of people clustered at the bar. He managed to barge his way to the front, but out the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of blonde bobbing toward him amongst the crowd. He ducked out from the bar underneath arms raised in cheers and straight out of bar without a backwards glance. 

_Shit_. He was fucked. 

* * *

  
"I can't believe this is your last race. Mark, I'm going to cry." 

  
"Hey, don't do that to me, gorgeous. Otherwise I'll never retire. And I'm ready to retire." 

  
"Why don't you wait til I'm old? Then we'll retire together." 

  
"Are you calling me old?" 

  
I just smiled. We'd fallen back into our usual pattern, but there was an added intimacy that tinted it now: our fingers occasionally interlacing for just a second, only to fall back to our sides; Mark sometimes stretching to brush a stray hair off my face. For some reason we both clutched to last remnants of what could have being, both knowing we faced its inevitable end, and somehow both accepting it. 

I embraced him tightly before he left the garage for the grid, knowing it was the last time I'd speak to him over that radio, because above all else, I'd adored working with him. He gave me a chance, he trusted me. Simply put, we were connected. So when he won his final Grand Prix, it somehow felt like it was for both of us. 

He almost pulled me over the barrier in parc ferme, and I almost choked on my own tears. Sebastian was there too, but in my eyes everyone from Red Bull was there for Mark. To give Vettel credit, he celebrated with him up there, acknowledged him, sprayed the champagne. I didn't notice him barge past me as I greeted Mark in the green room before hand. 

"That's one to remember." Mark slipped a champagne soaked arm around me as I greeted him at the door to his motorhome. 

  
"You can say that again... I don't think it could have gone better if we'd tried." 

  
"You're a genius. Did I ever tell you that?"

  
I dug my arm into his side. "This one was all you."

  
"Dinner tonight? You, me Lizzie, Robbie... Nothing big, not like Monaco."

  
"Perfect. Say, eight?" 

  
"I'm counting down the hours." 

I headed back to the garage to pick up my things, the smile on my face refusing to budge. Somehow, things turned out okay. I wasn't sure how or why, but I was grateful that this day wasn't marred by hurt or betrayal...

"You're fucking him them?" 

I stopped dead in my tracks. I was round the back of the motorhomes, there was nobody about. I turned on my heel, seething, to face the asshole that had dared to ruin today for me. 

"Yes, I've fucked him. Do you want a play by play?"   
Sebastian's jaw clenched, he looked like he was grinding his teeth.   
I moved toward him, deciding this time I would be the one to close the gap, to seize control. "He's very good. Selfless, you know?"  
"Don't."  
"You asked."   
"What're you going to do without him, Prinzessin?"   
I knitted my brows. "I won the bet. You don't get to call me that anymore, Herr Weltmeister."   
His eyes flashed. "Meine Prinzessin, how I despise you."   
"Of course you do. Because I won."   
"Come to dinner with me. Tonight."   
I almost forgot how to breathe. I looked up to check the sky wasn't falling down- was he serious? It didn't matter.  
"I can't tonight. I have plans." I stepped neatly around him and strode toward the garages, not turning back to even glance.   
"With him?"  
"Doesn't matter." I shouted back. "Just not with you." 

I stopped dead at the garage. Did he just call me _his_ princess? 

* * *

"Spend the night with me "

Mark's arm was wrapped around me, our fingers laced together across my chest. It was a beautiful night - we'd ventured into Sao Paulo for dinner, and as we ambled out of the restaurant to our car, the world seened like a beautiful place. Lizzie and Robbie had left early, leaving Mark and I to polish off the last of the champagne in comfortable solitude. 

I nuzzled my face into his neck, relishing his scent. "Of course." 

He opened the door of car and helped me inside, hand gripping mine tightly. "Come on, Princess, let's get you home." 

I flinched. Whether Mark noticed it or not I didn't know, but the word was like a jolt of electricity, forcing my finger to relinquish their grip on his hand. I watched him slip into the car beside me, giving the driver a nod as he shut the door. I stared out the window, vaguely wandering what I'd be doing now if I'd accepted a different dinner invitation. When Mark's phone rang, I barely noticed, only turning to look when I picked up on the tone of his voice..

"El, we're gonna have to rain check."

"Everything okay?"

"It's my mum- they've taken her into hospital. Nothing too serious..." 

He picked up on my widened eyes. 

"Appendicitis... They've taken her for surgery. Dad said she'll be fine, but I need to go."

"Of course." I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips. "I'll help you pack." 

* * *

Within half an hour of getting back to the hotel, Mark had left. I felt an emptiness in the pit of my stomach: regardless of what was going on between him and I personally, more than anything I would miss working with him. He believed in me, took a chance on me, trusted me. Knowing that that night would probably be the last time I saw him this year, and that I wouldn't be seeing him pretty much every day for mine months of my year was hard to swallow. I padded back to my room and collapsed onto the bed, barely even tired, still fully clothed. I felt the sticky heat of the night on my skin and reached for the air con remote, blindly reaching onto the side table, picking up my phone instead. I don't know what possessed me, but I found my fingers tapping open my messages. 

_507._

I tossed it onto the end of the bed, repulsed at myself. I stayed in my dress, staring at the ceiling in the darkened room, trying to pretend I didn't do what I just did. The knock on the door startled me. It was as if I thought I'd dreamt it, and I took my time getting up. I willed for it to have been some sort of hallucination, that there was nobody there. Of course, I was wrong. 

"Sebastian."

He didn't say anything, just stepped inside. I could barely bring myself to look at him, instead I busied myself with the coffee maker, flipping two mugs right side up.

"Coffee?"

" _Bitte_." 

I heard him sit down on the sofa, not throwing himself down like he did the last time he was in my hotel room. I didn't turn the whole time I brewed the coffee, despising myself and the way I had to try so hard not to. 

I set the mugs down on the coffee table, positioning myself at the very end of the sofa, as far away as possible, and finally made myself look at him. His hair was ruffled, curls crowning the top of this blonde head, scruff on his chin. He looked calm, relaxed even, but even like this there was a hint of a smirk about his lips. Mark was ruggedly handsome, like a model in a perfume advert that never wore a shirt, but Sebastian? Sebastian was beautiful. I reached for my coffee. He didn't seem to want to say anything, surprising for him, and I cursed myself for not having any idea why I'd even invited him here. He just sipped his coffee, foot tapping to some invisible rhythm, occasionally looking at me with absolutely no expression. I felt a twinge of annoyance at his casualness, how he could walk into a room and act like he'd done nothing wrong.

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what, Prinzessin?" 

I bit my tongue. "You don't get to do that to me. To anyone. You basically forced yourself onto me, I-" 

"I shouldn't have called you desperate..." 

I was stuck for words. My body stiffened. 

"...that was low. But I would have stopped if you'd said no." 

My stomach did a nauseous somersault. It had never even occured to me to ask him to stop. And I would have done, I've done it to men before, stepped on their foot and elbowed their ribs if they got too close. I was complicit. I was stunned to silence. He just sat there, looking. I got up and headed for the mini bar. Sat back down with the mini bottle of vodka. Took a swig. 

"I used a different name." I found myself saying

He cocked his head. "What do you mean?" 

"When I applied for the internship at Red Bull. I used a different name." 

"I don't-"

"They didn't know who I was. Who my dad was. It was all me." 

His forehead crinkled, and I could tell he was considering what to say. I felt as if I'd taken away all the power be had to hate me, cut out the very part of him that despised me. In five words. 

He rubbed the scruff on his chin. "You are full of surprises." 

"I earned my place there, as much as you did. How dare you try to tell me I didn't." 

He gestured to the vodka, and I obliged. He didn't flinch as he took a sip. 

"Am I supposed to like you now?"

"No. You're supposed to respect me. You should have respected me as soon as I'd proved that I belonged here." 

"Why do you think I wanted you on my team?"

I flicked my fingers toward the bottle. "That I don't know." 

"You were the first person that acted like you didn't know who I was."

I scoffed.

"I knew you knew. But you didn't even acknowledge me when we first met."

I laughed again, almost losing the swig of drink I'd just taken. "Did I damage your ego that much?"

"Maybe.".

" _Fuck me,_ Sebastian. That's the worst reason I've ever heard."

"I'm confused by you. You piss me off, _gott_ do you piss me off. When I met you properly, I hated you- straight away, I did. But you're good, and that pissed me off too. You don't treat me differently..."

"And that pisses you off? So you're a man child with a fragile ego? You want everyone to worship the ground you walk on?" I rolled my eyes, almost unable to believe what I was hearing. "That is the single worst excuse I've ever heard..."

"I'm childish. I'm petty. It's a flaw." He said simply. 

"I'll drink to that." And I did. 

"I will always push you away." 

"You don't have to." 

He reached for his stubble again, considering me with those blue eyes. It was as if we were locked in a stalemate, neither of us daring to move, both feeling the ground shift beneath us. 

"You beat me more times than you should've." 

"I know." I tried to smile, but he couldn't seem to look at it. 

My hands fiddled with the hem of my dress, twisting if between my fingers. 

"Are you fun?" 

Sebastian's voice was quiet, the question childlike. I was taken aback, and I could feel myself frowning at him. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, are you fun? Are you a fun person? I've wondered that about you." 

Biting my lip, I thought about it for a second. I squinted at him, unsure where to go or what to do next, his eyes not leaving my face. I moved to stand in front of him, arm outstretched, waiting for him.to take my hand. I'd probably knocked back the equivalent of five shots, and my body reacted accordingly. It took his hand reaching out to meet mine to steady me on my feet. He didn't say anything, and nor did. I left my shoes, my jacket, pulled the door open and led him into the corridor. Then, I dropped his hand and ran. Sprinted the full length of the corridor to the lift lobby, hammering my finger on the button. It took him a second, but he followed me, and by the time he reached me the door had opened and we fell inside. We were laughing now, me cracking first, and while it took him a minute Sebastian soon joined me. I looked at my watch: one fifteen. Good. The door pinged open, and I stood still for a second, like a dog in anticipation of being thrown a ball. Then I bolted. Bare feet freezing on the ice cold floor, footsteps echoing. It was empty apart from the security guard outside the main doors, the night manager clearly in his office. Sebastian was following, thankfully, although at more of a reserved jog. I tanked it down out of the lobby and down a flight of stairs, barged through a set of glass double doors and into the night air. My breathing was heavy, throat burning, Sebastian now close behind me. I gave one last glance behind me and dived fully clothed into the pool. 

"What are you _doing?_ "

"Come on in, the water's fine." 

* * *

Sebastian scoffed at her, almost disapprovingly but not quite. He eyed her for a second, soaking hair sticking to her bare skin, the satin of her dress clinging to her chest as she floated there, waiting. Waiting for him. He didn't hesitate for another minute, kicking off his shoes and leaping in, metaphorically and literally. She brought her arms up to protect herself from the impact, but Sebastian found her leg under the water and grabbed it, bringing her down with him only to come back up again spluttering and laughing that infuriating laugh _at him._

"It's freezing!" She managed through her laughter. Her eyes were wide in the darkness, and she was looking at him. The moon was hanging low in the sky, its reflection quivering in the dark water, in turn reflecting in her eyes. He reached out a tentative hand to her face, shimmering droplets of water settled there, and she didn't flinch. He pushed a soaking strand of hair from her forehead, hypersensitive to her reaction. In turn, she crossed her arms around his neck, using him to keep afloat, and he was suddenly acutely aware of his beating heart. 

"So, am I fun?" Her voice was tantalisingly quiet, teasing. Their foreheads almost touching. 

"We might get caught." 

"I'll take that as a yes." She dived below the water, her hand locking around his own to take him down with her. She surfaced at the other end of the pool, him close behind, and pulled herself up by her arms to rest on the mosaicked edge of the pool. The water lapped against her bare skin, and he could see goosebumps forming. 

"I love it here. The vibrancy, the people..." Her eyes met his. "What's your favourite circuit?"

The simplicity of her question moved him. She was trying to get to know him. Wanted to. His brain was fighting it, telling him to pull away, to be anywhere else but as near to her as he was now. He tried though, he had to. She was tearing him apart. He needed respite from the waves of anger and fascination and confusion. 

"Depends. Some I like because they're special to me, like Monza. My favourite to race on though? Got to be Suzuka." 

She smiled a little at this, dropping her head to rest on a tanned arm, still looking at him. 

"Your dad. Ninety-three." Suzuka was the track her father had secured his first championship. 

"You remember that?" 

"Of course." 

"You have as many as him now." 

"I know. Feels weird." 

"You still have a few to go to beat your hero." 

"I have time."

"I'm sure you do." 

She looked off somewhere in the middle distance. The palm fronds were shimmering in the breeze, it was silent apart from the whisper of the wind and the water rising and falling against the side. 

"This isn't going to change anything, is it?" Sebastian asked softly, trying not to look away as her attention turned back to him.

"I don't know." 

Sebastian did, and it wouldn't. He couldn't let her get this close, as much as he'd pushed her to. He wouldn't. 


	10. Keep Coming Back To You

When I awoke the next morning, my hair was damp on my pillow, cold against my bare shoulder. I grumbled, pushing myself up onto my elbows.

_Where was Sebastian?_

I looked down at myself, I was still in in the dress I had on the night before, the strap slipped down over my arm. I noticed the linen sheets were tucked tightly around my legs, loosened slightly around my waist where I’d obviously tossed and turned in my sleep. I smiled. A small one, but a smile none the less. My suite was quiet and still, but I could hear the low buzz of the TV from the sitting room, and could see the light and shadow dancing across the floor beneath my door, stark against the black-out darkness of the bedroom. I slipped out from the under the sheets, bringing the thin top layer to wrap around me. I hesitated at the door a little, not sure what to expect on the other side. Would he still be here? Or did I just leave the TV on all night?... I have been known to fall asleep in front of the evening news.

Although I was half expecting it, the sight of Sebastian stretched out on the sofa made my breath catch in my throat. He was lain at an angle, one leg on, one leg off, his left arm draped over the back of the chair, hoody zipped up right under his chin.

“You should really turn the aircon off when you sleep… it’s bad for your chest.” His voice was deep, croaky, but his eyes were wide awake.

I offered him a petulant smile. “You could have done it…”

“The remote was in your room… I wasn’t going to disturb you.”

I was surprised at how comfortable I felt; it might have been thanks to sheet wrapped tightly around my torso, but seeing him there, in the warm light of the TV, the sunlight slipping underneath the thick balcony curtains, felt almost _good._

“Coffee?”

“ _Ja, bitte. Keine milch_.” He turned follow me as I swept behind him, sheet trailing after me like a train. “Your hair is still wet…”

“Jumping into a pool at god knows what time’ll do that to you.”

“Was it worth it?”

I froze, chipped white mug hovering in front of the coffee machine.

I looked at his face. His expression was neutral, but there was intent behind his eyes. I stayed still for a moment, then turned to him, his eyes still locked onto mine.

“I don’t know… yet.”

A smirk played across his lips, but I didn’t return it. Something about his face said, _“it won’t be worth it.”_

“You look good in your sheet.” He offered, his hand brushing mine as I handed him his black coffee.

“I was going for Roman emperor, you know, in a toga?”

“I’d say more like Greek goddess.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“Elena?”

“Mmm?” I took a sip of coffee.

“Last night was…”

“Last night was alcohol induced… at least on my part… I know we’re not friends. You don’t need to say anything.”

“I feel like I do.”

“You don’t. Look, it’s not even as if we slept together. We talked. I made us jump in a pool. It’s fine. It’s okay.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

I shrugged, taking another sip of my drink.

“Us talking? Big deal for us, probably a bigger deal than us sleeping together, so…”

I flinched a little. “It’s not a big deal. It’s only a big deal if it changes things.”

* * *

January 2014

“Phone, keys, passport, traveller’s cheques, tickets… Carry-on… Lizzie! Where’s my carry on?”

“On the dresser… with your phone, keys passport, traveller’s cheques _and_ tickets. You packed it last night.”

On Lizzie’s behest, I’d booked us a trip during winter break: two weeks. All Inclusive. The Maldives. I’d resisted, but as soon as I saw a photo of our suites, nestled between the other wooden bungalows standing in the clearest water I’d ever seen, let’s just say Lizzie twisted my arm. It was a team trip, unofficially. For the past few years a few of the team had spent a few weeks of winter break in the glorious sunshine of the Indian Ocean. Sebastian wasn’t going, and yes, I’d checked. We hadn’t spoken at all since that night in Brazil, the one where we’d laughed, and touched, and talked, and he’d wrapped the sheets around me when I’d fallen asleep on the bed… I was glad. It was nothing that I wanted.

“I don’t think I have enough books. Two weeks is a long time…”

“How many do you have?”

“Eleven?”

Lizzie cocked a dark eyebrow at me. “Eleven?”

“You know me,” I smiled “I don't read at all when I'm working… get me on holiday and I'm book a day kinda girl… it's like it all comes out in one go.”

“You can buy books at the airport. Let’s go, go, go!”

I didn’t even have time to argue, Lizzie ushered me out of the door and into the waiting cab.

“I am literally doing nothing…” Lizzie stretched out in the back of the car, her head lolling on the headrest, a smile on her face.

“Two weeks where we don’t even have to _think_ about work… why have I never done this before?”

“Oh please, you’re only here today because your parents are already on vacation…”

I pouted. “Are you saying I have no life?”

“Of course, not…” She winked, reaching out to tap me on the arm. “Anyway, I might have to a bit of work… Daniel’s coming, and it’ll be his first real experience with the team outside of work so… might have to get a few twitter posts out of him, maybe a couple of sound bites…”

“He’s on holiday! You said you weren’t doing anything… poor guy, having you hovering around him all the time…” I bit my lip, waiting for her reaction, which came, as expected, in the form of a kick.

“He’d be lucky to have me hovering round him all the time… especially in a bikini.” She smirked, flicking her hair behind her. “Besides, I’m not interested in Daniel. Work first, baby.”

I gave her a pointed look.

“Ooops. Sorry. I mean, technically, you and Mark happened _just_ after you finished working together… and you and Sebastian hasn’t even happened, so…”

“I’m kidding, if things had been different, I wouldn’t have stopped things with Mark even if we _were_ still working together. Why should I?”

“You said it, girl. You said it.”

* * *

“I’ll take the fish curry… rice… salad…ummmmm…”

“Fries? Lizzie offered.

The waiter nodded politely, almost bowing out of our way and toward the kitchen. We were sitting in the resort’s beachfront restaurant, under the starlight, the breeze blowing off the sea, illuminated by the hurricane lanterns hanging between sandy wooden pillars to mark out where the restaurant ended, and the beach began. The sun had long set, and I stretched by legs out under the table, letting the gentle breeze blow the sand around my legs.

“I think I’m in heaven…” I sighed a contented sigh, watching Lizzie take a sip of her wine. “I can’t even remember why I was worried about the things I was worried about.”

“It feels so far away, doesn’t it?” But Lizzie wasn’t looking at me, instead, she was looking over my shoulder. “Deep breath.” She said, and before I had time to wonder what she was talking about, I caught the lingering scent of a familiar cologne, and a warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ladies.”

I turned to see Mark. He was tanned, wearing a white linen shirt unbuttoned just a little, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. I felt my mouth dry, because one: he looked incredible, and two: I hadn’t seen him since Brazil, and the night with Sebastian.

He bent down to kiss my cheek, his hand finding the small of my back, a familiar touch that made my stomach tighten. I closed my eyes against his touch.

“It’s been a while,” I smiled, his eyes locking with mine for a second before he turned to Lizzie, clearly remembering she was there.

“Liz, how are you coping without me?”

She took a huge swig of wine. “I’ve upgraded you for a younger model mate, he photographs just as well…”

Mark smirked, his eyes back on mine. “Room for one more?"

“By all means.” I waved at a waiter to a bring another chair, and Mark plopped down next to me, his leg resting against my bare knee.

“You look amazing,” Mark leaned over to whisper in my ear, his hand finding my knee, fingers grazing my skin. I almost melted at his touch.

“I’ll have the chef’s special, and whatever they’re drinking… .” He smiled to the waiter, his skin still against mine.

“The food here is too good… honestly, I might empty my suitcase into the sea and bring some back with me… did you try the octopus?” Lizzie was almost boucning.

Mark’s hand moved from my knee to the bottom of my thigh, mere millimetres. My stomach clenched.

“I had it yesterday… and that rice? Mate, it’s to die for.”

“I think they must put crack in it… I’ve ordered it again tonight.” I tried to be as enthusiastic as Lizzie.

“That’s one way to keep you coming back… drugs in the rice.” Lizzie knocked her drink back a little merrily. “What are you doing here anyway, Webber? You left us all behind, you can’t just come for the holidays.”

“Couple of the guys invited me, apparently…” he looked to me for a mere moment, “people can’t get enough of me.”

I nudged his arm, and his grip on my thigh tightened just a little.

“What’s your plan then? Now you’ve left the crazy days of F1 behind you?” I asked him, watching as he topped my drink up with his free hand.

“Who knows? Let’s just see what comes my way.”

“You’ll race though, right? In some way or another.”

“Like I said, let’s see.” I had a feeling he knew exactly what he wanted to do next.

The food came, so much of it that there was barely enough room for it on the table with the extra dishes. I missed the warmth of Mark’s touch as we ate. I edged a little closer to him. The food was soothing, comfort food that made you feel full and sleepy at the same time. We ate in companionable almost-silence, making generic chit-chat, talking about the previous season, our hopes for this year. It felt like filler though, it felt like we were waiting to leave the table, to find somewhere quiet, to talk and…

“El?” Mark’s voice pulled me out of my stupor.

“Sorry… sorry. What did I miss?”

“We asked if you wanted dessert.”

“Oh, god no. I’m too full. Way too full. Although, the banana cream pie is pretty good…”

“Take it back to your room. Or have it delivered. Or have the whole menu delivered! Did you forget where you are? I’m afraid though, I must extend my apologies to my two favourite people, as I now have to go and get drinks with my new favourite person.” And with that she pushed herself up from the table, waved an overly sweet goodbye and left.

“What was that about?”

“Drinks with the new driver.”

“Daniel?”

“No, Dastardly and Muttley, of course Daniel.”

“Who?”

I giggled. “Don’t worry about it. She’s trying to build that rapport, you know how much time they’ll have to spend together. Gotta be joined at the hip.”

“And you?”

I sipped some wine. “Me what?”

“’Builiding the rapport’ as you say.”

I shrugged. “Not really. Can’t exactly develop our working relationship on a beach in the Maldives… not much go on.” I eyed Mark curiously. “Why?”

He didn’t answer, just sipped his drink carefully. “Let’s go for a walk, eh?” He offered his hand to me, rubbing the back of my own hand with his thumb as he pulled me up out of my chair. It was breezy, but the air was warm and thick, and the sand was warm under my toes.

"It's a nice walk back to my room, it's right on the end. We can go the long way around." 

He nodded. 

“Heaven, huh?” Mark looped his arm around me, pulling me into him, and we walked in companionable silence on the shore, the music from the restaurant replaced with the gentle lapping of the water on the sand the further away we got. The lights from the bungalows illuminated the sand in front of us. 

“Thanks for the flowers you sent for mom, by the way. They were almost as gorgeous as you. She was thrilled.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head and I squeezed his hand in return.

“How’s she doing now?”

“Much better, although I’ve had to insist they get a housekeeper a few days a week. She keeps trying to clean the fucking pool.”

I snorted, stopping outside the wooden door of my suite, looking him square in the face. “Now I know where you get it from. Stubborn as a mule.”

“I resent that.”

“I resent your stubbornness.”

“I resent the fact that you didn’t choose me.”

The smirk on my lips vanished as if I’d been slapped.

“I resent the fact that we’re here at the same time but not together. I resent it all.”

“Mark.”

He paused. 

“I’m sorry, Elena. I shouldn’t have said that. What a dick.”

I brought my hand up to his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. “Hey, no, don’t say sorry. You don’t need to say sorry.”

“We made that choice together, El, I’m not angry at you. It’s just…”

“Being somewhere like this alone is fucking shit?”

“That… but not just that.”

“I know.” I wrapped his arms around me, tucked myself tight against his warm body. “I didn’t choose him. Not over you. Please know that.”

“I do, gorgeous. I know.”

“Look at me,” I murmur, pulling away from him so I could see his face again.

“I don’t want to do anything else.”

I brought my hand back up his face, thumbing his cheekbone again, but this time sliding it upwards to his dark hair, twirling my fingers through the ends. I brought my forehead to his own, and I could smell the citrussy tang of his cologne, the whiskey he’d drank instead of dessert, the smell of salt water and sand. His thumb found my bottom lip, tugging it gently, parting my lips for me. And that was all it took. In the space of a breath, my mouth was on his, my tongue trailing along his bottom lip, and he didn’t hesitate to let me in. I didn’t think about anything else, _nobody_ else, couldn’t hear the water or the music or the wind, had no regard for any consequences. I let him lead me backwards, closer to the door, and I reluctantly tore my hand away from Mark to fumble in my purse for the keycard. I grasped it, trying and failing to push it on the reader backwards and one handed. Mark sensed my frustration, slipping it out my hand, and I heard the welcoming beep of the reader granting us access. 

I didn't think again until we were lying next to each other atop the sheets, the breeze gently blowing the tuille curtain of my bed. And what I thought was: _shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry... I keep doing this to you! I'm with you though, I'm dying to write Elena/Seb... :P  
> I am quite enjoying Elena and Mark though, they're kind of cute... sorry :P 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! And if you're not down for Elena/Mark, I have to apologise! Just know what you want is coming... soon... maybe :P 
> 
> As always, I'd love your feedback- it helps me to grow and encourages me to write! 
> 
> P xx

**Author's Note:**

> The character of Elena is taken from another of my works on WattPad. I just wanted a different way to tell her story and have therefore just completely changed most of her life. You don't need to know anything at all about that story- it's basically just in case it seems like I've stolen someone else's original character.  
> I've also invented pretty much every other team member apart from team bosses- it's just easier and more fun :)


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